


CoSL 15: Bringing up Trubel

by Dracophile



Series: Grimm-The Casebook of Sloane Larson [15]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, but Sloane feels for Trubel, episode rewrite, still in cannon, tries to be a good teacher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 18:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracophile/pseuds/Dracophile
Summary: Rewrite of Syncronicity, Law of Sacrifice, Nobody Knows the Trubel I've Seen, and My Fair Wesen (whew...)Kelly brings Adalind Schade back to town, with a baby in tow, and that brings the royals calling.  After working through that and a lot of mixed feelings with their plans to keep the baby safe, more trouble comes to town. Theresa Rubel comes to Portland and despite a body count in her wake, Sloane wants to try and help her. But is she ready to be a mentor? And will she and Nick see eye to eye in how to mentor her?





	CoSL 15: Bringing up Trubel

Synchronicity and Law of Sacrifice

\----------------------

It was a couple of days after her birthday and she was lamenting it was getting to warm to wear her new jacket, but the April evenings were moderately cool at most. But going day to day in just her jeans and t-shirts was normal for her. Mim and Jean had insisted on seeing Portland however and Sloane was only too happy to oblige. What she didn’t anticipate was it being an excuse to splurge on her.

Jean had taken her to nicer boutique style shop, holding up blouses and shirts and other bits. Sloane was resistant at first. She didn’t like paying full price for anything, since money had always been tight on the road, and she didn’t want to wear things that could be ruined by a hunt. She only had one dress in her closet, black and slinky, and it had seen better days she knew. And then there was her suit, also black and not properly fitted since she got it on clearance. It was Mim who pointed out that she wasn’t _always_ hunting or traveling now. Having some more playful, nicer clothes would be a good thing now.

“Plus, don’t you get called to court?” she asked.

“Not yet…” Sloane said. There hadn’t been a need for them to go to court yet, though she knew it was a possibility.

“Well, you need to look presentable if you do! Your grandmother got me my first suit for my college interview, I’m gonna get you one,” Mim said, folding her arms. “A good one, and get it tailored.”

“And you’ll need some shirts and blouses for that suit,” Jean said with a persuasive tone. “And some new jeans don’t hurt. We haven’t gotten to spoil you for two decades, let us have this.”

Sloane sighed deeply but finally smiled. “Okay, okay, I know when I’m outnumbered…”

She ended up with two suits, one black and one navy, and a skirt and pants option for both. Mim wasn’t the fashion lover but knew that mixing and matching was integral. Fifteen blouses that were much more colorful and expressive than she was used to were added by Jean, as well as some casual pants. She tried to decline getting a dress but Jean convinced her a new little black dress was a must. And shoes—new boots for work and a couple sets of heels and sandals. Sloane felt bad for all the money they spent but they insisted they wanted to do it and help set her up for her new life.

“You guys really didn’t need to do all this…” Sloane said, looking at all the bags in her living room once they got home that evening. The suits were being tailored to be picked up later. “I mean, can you afford it?”

“We’re not poor, honey,” Jean said. “We made some wise investments before I retired to do jewelry full-time. We’ll be fine.”

“And I saved up plenty. We missed a lot of birthdays in the past, so expect us to do plenty for the ones we’ll be here for,” Mim said.

“I just…all this for me? It’s…” she said, feeling awkward.

Jean walked over and put an arm around her. “You deserve it. Whatever voice in there that says you don’t, that’s just what you told yourself when you wanted something but couldn’t have it, right? I used to do the same thing. “I don’t deserve a new jacket, my old one is fine. I don’t deserve to eat like this, I just need the basics. I don’t deserve kindness, I’m a bad person.”” Sloane looked at her in surprise and Jean smiled. “Growing up in the family I had, it was hard not to feel that way…”

“You are not a bad person! You’re one of the nicest people I’ve ever known,” Sloane said.

“But that’s what my brother and my parents always told me.” She took a breath and squeezed her. “I know we don’t talk about Deirdre, but…I get the feeling she said similar things.”

“…Maybe, but…money was usually tight so it was true,” Sloane said.

“But money isn’t tight for us, and it’s not tight for you now,” Mim said, coming over as well. “Treat yourself sometimes and let other treat you. It’s not about owing them but accepting that, well…they care about you and want to make you happy.”

“You make me happy without all this,” Sloane said quietly, embarrassed at the sentiment of it.

They smiled and hugged her together. “We appreciate that. But it also makes us happy to spend time with you like this and get to know you all over again and what you like.”

“Which apparently, once we finally got you to loosen up, is a surprising amount of color and elegant details!” Jean grinned.

“And leather!” Mim added approvingly.

Sloane blushed but laughed.

\---------------------

Before, Sloane often only shopped from thrift stores and made do with jeans and simple T-shirts, so having an actual wardrobe for the first time in forever was a little jarring. Her next day at work had her flip-flopping on whether she should wear something new or something old. Finally she opted for a simple shirt heather gray shirt, but put a new short turquoise blazer on. She also opted to wear the earrings Jean had made for her and given her before they left for home. She gave her dangles for casual days and studs for work—both were art deco inspired which was up Sloane’s alley. The studs were a trapezoid shape with a white stone set in the center of black enamel and a gold diamond shape coming off them.

Nick and Hank looked up when she walked in and did a double take. “Hey, you look good,” Hank said. “More than usual I mean.”

Sloane smiled and sat down. “Yeah. Mim and Jean took me on a shopping spree before they went home. Apparently my clothes needed some new life.”

“Eh, nice to have some options that aren’t work clothes,” Nick said.

“I suppose so…It’s just weird actually having a closet I guess.”

She started to catch up on her paper work and eventually put the blazer over her chair. When she got up to go get something to drink, she noticed one of the other detectives looking at her. “Larson, never noticed you have some mean looking arms.”

Sloane arched her eyebrows and looked at her bicep. Admittedly, compared to some women, she supposed she had some more obvious muscles. “…Thanks?”

“Just saying, I don’t normally see women with arms like that, even here.”

She shrugged. The Detective was Eric Denver she remembered now. They’d never really talked before. “I mean, to each their own. I just work out regularly.”

“How much you lift?

“Uh…last I checked, about 200,” she said. That sounded about right but Grimm strength could fluctuate things a bit.

“200?” He asked, surprised. “That’s almost as much as me!”

“Oh, cool.”

He frowned, looking her over. “How much do you weigh?”

“…Pretty sure you’re not supposed to ask a lady that number,” she said, trying to smile as it felt a bit awkward now.

“I don’t believe you can live that much,” he said, frowning at her.

Sloane frowned back. “Why would I lie?”

“Trying to show off for the boys,” he said, smirking, a couple of the others chuckling as well.

Sloane arched her eyebrows. “Yeah…Pretty sure I’d have to want to impress you to show off. So…no,” she said, opening her soda and taking a sip as she walked away.

Denver blushed and then glared a bit, following her. “Well, I’m still not believing you. So how about a demonstration?”

“Not interested in deadlifiting or squatting in the station, thanks,” she said.

“Then how about arm wrestling?”

Sloane paused and looked at him. “You’re serious?”

He smiled and spread his hands. “What do you got to lose? Except maybe your pride.”

Sloane rolled her eyes but then went back to the break room. “To quote your girlfriend I’m sure: If I do this for you, will you leave me alone?”

He flushed again and glared while the others snickered. Walking over to sit in the chair, he rolled up his sleeve and set it down. “Sure, though you’ll have to admit you were full of shit trying to give a high number.”

Sloane sat down and sighed as she put up her arm. The grasped hands and one of his buddies came over. “Okay…1…2…go!”

Denver started immediately trying to push her hand down. Though Sloane budged a little she didn’t go down. Debating with herself, she decided she did not want to give him any satisfaction. Summoning her own strength she pushed back, getting him back and straight up again, trying not to smile at the surprise on his face. Cheating just a little—well, it was her natural ability—she summoned the Grimm strength and then forced his hand down.

The other cops stared in shock as Sloane stood and shook out her hand. “There. We good?”

“I—no! There is no way a woman should be able to do that!”

“S’cuse you?” Sloane said, putting her hands on her hips. “I just did, so you might rethink that.”

“Rematch!”

“I just beat you, I’m not interested in doing it again.”

By now they’d drawn a small crowd of officers and detectives and other brass.

“You scared?”

“Really? You are honestly doing this elementary school bully thing?” she asked, not impressed.

“All I’m saying is you’re refusing because you know I’m right.

Sloane glared before sitting down again.

Denver tried and failed again. Then his friends—Sartoli and Muhn—tried and failed. The crowd and gotten bigger, the woman in the precinct cheering when she beat them. Nick and Hank finally wandered over on the 3 time and were both smiling as she shook out her arm.

“You’re cheating!”

“How?” Sloane asked, honestly curious.

Denver couldn’t answer and he glared. “Push up contest!”

“…Use your words, is that a challenge or are you just spouting out random words now? Are you have a stroke? Do we need to call a doctor?” she asked in mock concern. The crowd all chuckled a bit.

He turned even redder than before. “Yes, I challenge you to a push up contest.”

“Okay. Limit?” she asked coolly.

“None. Go till you drop.”

“If you insist,” she sighed, getting down into perfect form. Denver managed to get the others down as well and started doing push ups. 15 marks they were doing fine. At 30, Sartoli was getting a bit winded, and he was down at 34. Muhn only made it to 39. The whole station had gathered around them now and were cheering one or both of them on. A few bets were made too. Denver kept trying to go but by 50 he was straining while Sloane was still going.

She smiled a bit and on an up, repositioned to one arm, continuing to push with the other as she extended her hand. “Need a hand there?”

Denver puffed and then stopped, panting. Sloane kept going and did 25 on one arm and another 25 with the other. By the end she was panting and a little sweaty, but stood up to loud applause from the station. Nick and Hank raised her arms in victory, and they were a little jelly-like when they did.

“And that’s why you don’t mess with our partner,” Nick smiled.

“You guys didn’t participate,” Muhn said, stretching his sore arms.

“Because we already know she could kick our butts,” Hank said. There was no shame in his admission, in fact he sounded proud of Sloane.

“Yeah, well…” Denver groused. “If I didn’t overdo it yesterday it’d be different.”

“I work out every morning, maybe you need to stretch more,” Sloane said, convincingly concerned though her partners knew she was digging right back at him.

Before Denver could reply, a tap on the break room window and a voice cut over them. “If we’re done turning the station into a sports arena,” Renard said, though he looked amused, “I’d like to see some police work get done.”

The men all blushed and quickly got back to their desks and Sloane just grinned. Renard smiled slightly and nodded to her before entering his office again. “I should’ve bet someone lunch,” she said, stretching and grunting. Honestly, given her usual routine it wasn’t that bad. “I used to do arm wrestling contests to get extra cash, brought back memories…”

“Well…I need to talk with you about something. I can treat you to lunch,” Nick said.

She looked at him, picking up on the slight worry in his voice. “…Okay. Is something wrong?”

He hesitated but nodded a bit. “At lunch though…” She nodded.

When lunch rolled around, she was surprised that Nick drove to Monroe and Rosalee’s house. She knew they were both taking off today to go over wedding plans. “Why are we—” Nick didn’t wait for her to ask, getting out and heading to the door. Sloane frowned but followed, getting there as he knocked. Monroe opened the door and looked just as surprised as Sloane felt they were there.

“Guys, hey. What’s up?”

“We have a problem,” Nick sighed.

Monroe deflated, looking a little put out given the stresses of planning his wedding were already enough at the moment. “Who died?”

Nick gave a rather morose smile. “No one…yet,” he said, coming in when Monroe moved aside. He looked at Sloane who shrugged, not sure what this was about either.

“I…we have a problem,” Nick said.

“We do?” Sloane asked.

“Yeah, we do,” he replied.

Monroe frowned but looked towards the dining room. “Rosalee, Nick and Sloane are here. They say they have a problem.”

Rosalee stood and came out with a smile. “Hey, guys. What’s wrong? Is it a case?”

Nick shook his head. “No, it’s not about a case. It’s…about your wedding.”

They looked at one another in concern and then back at him. “What about it?”

“I…can’t be your best man,” he sighed. “And Sloane can’t be Maid of Honor.”

“What?” Sloane snapped.

He looked at her, a little surprised. “Sloane…think about it. Their families will be there. Along with their wesen friends. We’re Grimms so if they woge…”

Sloane’s eyes widened and she blushed a bit, not having thought of that and feeling stupid for not realizing. “Oh…” she breathed, her heart twisting a bit. She’d been excited, really. She’d never been to a wedding before—well, once where she had to kill a groomsman, but that didn’t really count.

Nick looked back at Rosalee and Monroe. “I am so honored you asked me, and I know Sloane was too. But I don’t want to hurt anybody or them to get hurt because of me.”

“But you have to be there,” Rosalee said. “We never would’ve met if it weren’t for you, Nick! And Sloane, I have to have you there.”

Sloane’s heart twisted again, but she knew Nick was right.

“We want to be there,” Nick said. “There’s nothing we want more, but we don’t know how to make that work.”

Sloane perked up. “Wait…there might be a way.”

They all turned to her in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. Correct me if I’m wrong, but how you normally identify us as Grimms is our eyes, right? When they turn black?”

Monroe nodded. “Yeah…”

“Not exactly black,” Rosalee said.

“No, you're right, actually. Black's too weak a word,” Monroe agreed. “It's more like infinite darkness. And we see ourselves reflected in that darkness. We see our true wesen nature. Took me a while to get used to that…”

“Really? You see that in my eyes?” Nick asked, surprised.

“Yeah, it's actually very unsettling,” Monroe nodded.

“It explains why you get some of the reactions you do,” Rosalee said. Sloane didn’t look displeased by the description like Nick did.

“So to hide it…I mean, we could use some sunglasses for you?”

“Oh, that could work!” Rosalee said with a smile.

Sloane smiled. “I’d say keep that as plan B. We, that is Grimms, have a way to suppress that reaction for a short time.”

“You do?” Nick asked excitedly.

“Yeah, but it’s generally frowned upon. It leaves us vulnerable because we it actually means we can’t see wesen woge for a short time either. It’s for extreme situations, like infiltrating a wesen heavy area when you already know your target. It’s also, um…technically a poison.”

“What? Oh no, no poisoning yourselves for our wedding,” Monroe said. Nick looked equally worried now.

“No no, it’s okay,” Sloane said quickly. “In very small doses it suppresses our Grimm side with no issues. High doses or regular doses are when it’s dangerous. Kind of like the umpkippen we talked about last week. In the past some Grimms tried to take it like a medication, to stay out of the life and, well…it worked kind of in that they stayed out of _all_ of life.”

“Have you taken it before?” Rosalee asked hesitantly.

She nodded. “Once. Had to get into a club full of wesen to get to a Heftigauroch arms dealer. No side effects in the small dose aside from a little heartburn,” she said honestly. “It lasts for about 3 hours, so maybe not all of the wedding but it could be good for the main parts and pictures?”

They were nodding slowly, looking hopeful. “Okay, that would be great,” Nick said, smiling widely. “I didn’t even think that might be an option!”

She smiled back. “I don’t have any on hand right now and the recipe a closely guarded secret. But I got some contacts that owe me favors, so I might be able to get some in the next couple of weeks. I’d say maybe four doses, two for each of us. I wouldn’t do more than that in 24 hours and saving a dose if we can.”

Nick nodded. “Okay, that sounds good.”

She smiled back and then oofed when Rosalee hugged her. “This is great! I was worried there for a second you wouldn’t come.” Monroe hugged her too and she smiled and hugged them back. Then he pulled Nick over for an even bigger group hug and she hummed. “Okay, feeling the appreciation, but also a little suffocated.”

“Deal with it,” Rosalee said, making them all laugh.

\--------------------

Two days later it was time for Rosalee’s dress fitting. She wanted to wear her grandmother’s dress—which her mother had worn and her sister. But she needed to make sure it fit and found a dress shop that already cleaned it up for her and was ready to start tailoring it. Sloane and Juliette, who was also in the bridal party as a bridesmaid it was decided, went with her to the shop for moral support and to start looking at bridesmaid’s dresses. She promised they wouldn’t be ugly.

While Rosalee was changing, Juliette walked around admiring the wedding gowns on display wistfully. One hanging up caught her attention and she pulled it down, walking over to a mirror and holding it up. “What do you think?”

Sloane looked her over and opened her mouth, but a shop clerk beat her to it. “That would look great on you!”

Juliette smiled. “Yeah?”

Sloane nodded. “It would.”

“Yes. When are you getting married?” the clerk asked.

“Oh, no, I, um…” Juliette stuttered, a little flustered. Sloane arched her brow. She knew Nick had asked her to marry him once, but neither of them brought it up in front of her now that she thought about it so she had no idea what that status was now.

Rosalee coming out of the dressing room diverted attention for all of them and Sloane honestly nearly wanted to laugh. She knew the dress would be rather old fashioned but didn’t expect an all lace straight-jacket. It had a high collar with more lace embellishments, long puffy sleeves, a simple belt that wrapped around her middle and cut her in half and it reached to the floor in a cascade of flowers and lace and gauzy netting that 80+ years ago was probably very fashionable.

And dammit, she still looked beautiful. Just very stuffy.

“Well, looks like alterations won’t be needed after all,” the clerk said with a smile. Juliette was beaming too.

“Thanks…you think my grandma’s dress fits okay then?” Rosalee asked nervously, stepping up to the stage to look in the mirror.

“Absolutely,” Juliette said.

“The silhouette’s perfect,” the clerk nodded.

She smiled but then looked at Sloane, still nervous and picking at it in a few places. “What do you think?”

Sloane took a breath but smiled and stepped up with her. “You look beautiful, Rosalee. So beautiful, I think it’s wasted on Monroe. You should marry me instead.”

Rosalee barked out a laugh and Juliette snorted. “Sloane!”

“What, I’m serious,” she said, obviously not. “We could have a double wedding with my aunts, make a big gay affair, save on catering…I see no downside other than maybe fighting Monroe for you. But I can take him.”

“Ha ha,” she said, batting at her shoulder.

Sloane smiled back and grew more serious now that she wasn’t focusing on the dress. “You look stunning. But do you like it?”

Rosalee sobered as well, looking at herself and nodding. “I do, really. It’s just…hard to believe it’s me. Is it really me?”

“Calm down,” Juliette said, seeing she was getting flustered. “It’s not like you’re going to wear this everyday.”

“Well, your sister wore it two different days,” Sloane muttered. Rosalee batted her shoulder again, trying to fight a smile.

“You’re right…Okay.” She giggled a little giddily at the realization that her dress was ready so much sooner than she thought. Sloane smiled, glad that she was happy.

\------------------------

Sloane was sleeping, having relaxed to the rain beating on her roof and windows. Getting regular sleep for the last year was a blessing she hadn’t known she needed. In a bed was even better and she often wondered if it was the cause of her being more able to question things now as far as how she grew up.

Of course, it didn’t always last. She grunted when her phone rang and sighed, grabbing it and sitting up. And stifling a yawn. “Larson.”

“Sloane,” Nick breathed out, sounding flustered. “We’ve got a situation.”

She was alert in an instant. “A case?”

“No. Much different. You remember I told you about a Hexenbeast named Adalind Schade?”

Sloane frowned but nodded to herself. “Yeah. The one that put a spell on Hank, so you took her powers away by giving your blood, but then she cursed Juliette and disappeared, right?”

“Yeah. She’s reappeared though, at my house, with her powers back.”

“…Okay, I’ve got some iron shackles with runes on them—they aren’t 100% effective but if we can get them on her they’ll drain her batteries and then we can maybe toss her into the river because that thing about witches not floating is actually true, though it might be the shackles—” she said, getting up to get her jeans on as her mind and mouth raced.

“No no, we’re not going to kill her,” Nick said quickly.

“…Nick, you know I’ve come to sort of respect some aspects of your bleeding heart nature, but given her history I’m going smack you if you aren’t careful.”

“I get it,” he sighed. “I do. Normally I would be ready to go witch hunter on her too. But her powers aren’t the only thing she came back with. She also has a baby.”

She dropped the shirt she was grabbing in surprise. “A _what_?”

“A baby. And the person who brought them to me was my mother.”

“Kelly?” she asked, further shocked.

“I take it she didn’t mention coming for a visit?”

“It wasn’t really planned, Nicky,” Kelly said, sounding close. “Hi, Sloane. Thank you for looking after my son.”

Sloane smiled a bit. “Eh, he does pretty well for himself at this point…”

“But you’ve stuck around?” Kelly asked curiously.

“Ah…well…I like it here,” she admitted.

“That’s good,” Kelly said with a smile in her voice. Sloane let out a breath she’d been holding, realizing she’d been nervous what Kelly would think about setting up roots. “But, as we were talking about, we’ve got an issue. I didn’t know it was _Adalind_ when I rescued her.”

“Rescued her?”

“Yes. My mission with the resistance was to get Adalind and her baby out of Austria. Her baby is very powerful. She’s barely a few days old and she has her powers,” she said, her voice turning serious.

“That’s…terrifying,” Sloane said honestly.

“Yes, but more terrifying would be what the Royals might do with her.”

Sloane remembered Gallin talking about the Royals being in a panic for a while, and that Kelly was working with he Resistance on a mission and put it all together. “So you guys are…protecting them?”

“As best we can,” Nick sighed. “There was a bit of a problem since well, she and I have history. She got away from us and went to Renard’s.”

“…Why? Oh,” she gasped softly. “Oh, Renard mentioned he was trying to get someone away from the royals…”

“He did? When?” Nick asked, confused.

“It was last month—I was questioning him to see if he knew about the Royals being up in arms about something according to Gallin. I couldn’t get a straight answer out of him aside from hew as helping to coordinate getting someone out of there. I forgot about it with everything else going on with Wu and then the Mummy and all that…”

“So I guess he didn’t mention he’s very possibly the father of Adalind’s baby.”

“…No, he definitely didn’t…When did this turn into a soap opera?” She sighed.

“Not the half of it, I’m sure,” Kelly said. “Best part is, we just saved them from getting shot up by the verrat at Renard’s apartment.”

“Any wounded?” she asked.

“Just the other guys,” Nick said. “But we’re taking Adalind to Monroe and Rosalee’s now.”

“Excuse you, why?” she asked, her tone sounding ready to smack again.

“It’s the safest place I can think of,” he said. “They agreed to it.”

“…I’m heading over too.”

“You don’t have to, I just wanted you to be in the loop—”

“I’m already dressed,” she said, her tone daring him to stop her.

“Then I have a better idea,” Kelly said. “There’s a man we need to…question, who led the verrat to Renard’s apartment.”

“…Okay, I can help with that,” she said, switching gears.

“I know. I’ll have Nick text you the address.”

“Am I the middleman now?”

“Just a little,” Kelly chuckled.

\--------------------------

The man’s name was Weston Steward. He was an FBI agent who was also in the Royal’s pockets. They found the safe house the royals set up for him by tracking the car he used. Kelly popped the lock on the safehouse door and softly sneaking in. He was drinking and bemoaning that the royals would kill him when they found out he failed. Kelly, Renard and Sloane got the drop on him though he still woged int a Hundjager. It was Renard who knocked him out this time surprising him from the side, and Sloane tied him to a chair expertly with knots and loops that would get tighter if he struggled. Renard pulled his phone out from the coat over the nearby chair, unlocking it with Weston’s fingerprint and going through it. Once he was satisfied, he walked back over to the prone man while the Grimms gathered around him.

“Weston, wake up,” Renard said. He slapped the side of his face. “Wake up, Weston.” The blinked groggily. He was older, with silver hair and bright, angry eyes once they cleared and he saw all of them. “Now why don't you tell me how the royals got a federal agent to work for them.”

“Why? Am I supposed to be scared?” he asked snidely.

Sloane arched her brow but Renard had asked to handle this for the most part. “Really? You wanna play that game?” he asked.

“You see the white light?” Weston asked lightly.

“What white light?”

“You’ll see it soon since you're a dead man. And you don't even know it.”

Renard’s nostrils flared, losing patience, and he punched Weston across the face. None of the Grimms even flinched as Weston blinked the stars from his eyes. “Don't threaten me. Not after trying to kill me. That's just bad manners.” He punched him again for good measure and Weston snarled, his face rippling. “Now do you see white lights or just color?” He held up Weston’s phone. “Last number to have called you was from Vienna. Who was that from?” Weston kept his lips tight but Renard just shrugged. “I can just call it for you.” He did so, putting it up to his ear. “I'm sure they'd love to hear from me on your phone.”

“Turn it off,” Weston barked.

Renard hit the disconnect button, still eyeing him. “Who was it?”

Weston still tightened his lips and Sloane sighed. “I don’t think he’s going to just talk. He might need some more persuasion.”

“Are you offering?” Renard asked.

“He’s going to be missing pieces if I do,” she warned.

“I usually start with the ears,” Kelly said.

“Really? I go with the fingernails. They can see you do it. Also painful for a long time depending on what you do,” Sloane sad, wiggling her fingers.

“You’re not scaring me,” he growled. Sloane reached over and grabbed his left pinky finger and, in a fluid motion, wrenched it to the side with a snap. Weston screamed but it was cut off by Renard woging and grabbing him around the throat.

“You better be careful because they will hurt you. I’m actually trying to be nice despite my desire to see you in pieces,” Renard said, his words still clear despite the scared looking skin tugging at his mouth on one side. “I would be very open to my friends here continuing to get the information from you, but I’ll give you a chance now. Talk.”

He tried to breath against the hand but finally gasped out. “Verrat.”

“Who in the Verrat?”

“Rus... Ruspoli,” he managed.

“And where's Ruspoli now?” Weston glared, trying to fight saying more.

“You're gonna wanna answer that question,” Nick said.

“Oh, just kill him,” Kelly sighed.

“I know a good place to dump him,” Sloane agreed.

He choked out. “On his way…here.”

Renard finally let go of his throat, changing back to his human form. “Alone?”

Weston panted. “I don't think so.”

“Is Viktor with him?”

“Yes…” He sighed and looked at him like he was trying to work with him. “All they want is the baby. Just give it up, and your problems go away.

“I'm not giving anything up,” Renard growled. “And your problems have just begun.”

“Here's how it's gonna work,” Nick said, smiling a little. “You're gonna be arrested for the attempted assassination of a police captain. We can tie you to the two men who were killed.”

“Not to mention, you're on the payroll of the royals,” Sloane pointed out. He was looking between them all in confusion and growing fear.

“FBI forensics will pull financial records and make that connection, and that's prison time,” Nick grinned.

“Or, more likely, death by royals,” Renard finished.

“Or us,” Sloane added.

“What do you want from me?” he finally asked, looking unsure and trying to find a way out.

“You're going to deliver a message,” Kelly said. Sloane stepped to his side and pulled one particular loop of the loop that undid his arms, surprising him as he rubbed over his wrists.

“What do you want me to tell them?” he asked uncertainly.

“Where the baby is,” Renard said. Nick offered him a piece of paper and he took it, confusion plain on his face.

“You're gonna give 'em the baby?”

Renard gave a humorless smile. “Just deliver the message.”

Grabbing the rope she used, Sloane followed them all out and down the street as they parked their cars a couple of blocks away.

“This better work,” Nick said, referring to their plan.

“It'll work,” Renard said. “He's more afraid of them than he is of us.”

“That’s a mistake,” Sloane said.

“But let’s hope it’s a mistake that works in our favor,” Kelly said.

Renard nodded. “Keep in touch.” He veered off to get to his own car while they kept walking.

Nick sighed and pulled out his phone. “Now it's time to tell Hank that Adalind's back…”

Kelly paused in surprise. “Hank knows Adalind?”

“And how,” Slaone said, laughing a little.

“She tried to kill him,” Nick said, scrolling for Hank’s contact. “Twice.”

“And you think he'll still help?” she asked uncertainly.

“I think once he understands it's about her baby...” Nick said, Sloane nodding.

\-------------------------

“She has a baby?” Hank asked, jaw dropping. Nick had gotten him to meet up back at his and Juliette’s house with the rest of them, waiting till he arrived to break the news to him. “You're kidding me.”

“Nope,” Nick said.

“When did this happen?” he asked, getting a little flustered. “I mean, when did she give birth? I mean, how old is the baby?”

“It's not yours,” Juliette said with a smile. Kelly was surprised since Nick had not mentioned that Hank had slept with her.

Hank visibly relaxed with a deep sigh of relief. “Thank God. I mean, _thank God,_” he reiterated, now a bit more ready to joke. “That's not a woman you wanna have a baby with. Who's the idiot father?”

“Our idiot captain,” Sloane said with a wry smile. Hank’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Popular, this Adalind,” Kelly said, a little amused.

“That's one way to look at it,” Nick said. “Three Hundjagers tried to kill Adalind and Renard to get the baby tonight.”

“And I missed that part,” Sloane muttered bitterly.

“Hey, you got to help intimidate the FBI agent Hundjager we left alive,” Kelly pointed out.

“You left one alive? And he’s FBI?” Hank asked, surprised.

“We have a plan,” Nick said. “But not a whole lot of time to get it done.”

He was nodding slowly. “…Okay. What do you need me to do?”

Nick smiled gratefully and they set about explaining the plan.

\--------------------

Sloane had her doubts about the plan, but it was going surprisingly smoothly. One hiccough was Viktor coming to the station to confront Renard and threaten him, Adalind, and Renard’s mother if they didn’t get the baby. But Renard had figured that Weston wouldn’t just give them the address and they’d ambush them. Viktor was too paranoid. But it didn’t really alter the plan too much, just added a step.

Step 1) Find a used truck being sold privately. Had to be one previous owner, and under 50,000 miles. Kelly was going to front the money, but Sloane actually had a good amount of cash on hand for emergencies hidden in a space between her wall and the kitchen cabinet. Nick promised to pay her back but Sloane wasn’t too concerned so long as the car was running, and she’d insist on inspecting it.

Step 2) Arrest Kelly for the murder of Adelind’s mother. That had been a surprise, but once it was explained she was fine with it. It sounded like more of an accident than anything, though a Grimm confronting a Hexenbeast generally never ended well. The cops that went with them were all loyal to Renard and didn’t question or gossip about the arrest or what was going to happen after.

Step 3) Get Adalind to the station for questioning. Adalind didn’t know about Sloane—something they’d kept up intentionally—so she was at the station for back up. Sloane had to admit she was a very pretty blonde and could see why she was good at pulling men in. But she also seemed to love her daughter…

Sloane shook her head at the thought. Maybe she did love her daughter, but neither of them were safe together. There was no guarantee Adalind wasn’t going to be an evil witch and raise her daughter as such. And if that baby had as much power as Kelly believed, that would be a huge problem to say the least. Maybe even worse in the hands of the Royals who would no doubt use her as a weapon of some kind. Nobody brought up the idea of killing a baby though. Even so, this still felt a little heartless.

Step 4 was separating Adalind and the baby. Adalind was taken to the interrogation rooms for questioning, leaving the baby with Renard. Once she was in the interrogation room where Kelly was waiting—just to talk and distract her—he came out with the baby wrapped in the green throw from Monroe and Rosalee’s house. Renard was looking resigned as he rocked her and Sloane walked over. “You sure about this?” she asked.

“Yes…Until we can stop the Royals, it’s for the best,” Renard said softly. “It’s best for us, and for Diana.”

“Diana?”

He smiled, a touch wistful. “Adalind was able to figure out a name…”

She looked down at the baby again, who was still toying with Kelly’s locket and nodded. It was hard to believe something so small and innocent looking could inspire people to kill for her at just days old. And could be this powerful. But she nodded. “I’ll keep watch. Go.”

He nodded and headed to the door. From there he would walk to where his brother’s limo would be waiting to hand Diana over.

Sloane put the earbud back into her ear and lifted the mini mic to her mouth. “He’s out.”

There was no reply and she really wasn’t expecting one, it was just an update. Over the earpiece she heard Kelly and Adalind talking.

“…talk to you,” Kelly said. “If nothing else, I owe you an explanation.”

“You killed my mother,” Adalind shot back, though she didn’t sound angry. Just as though that’s the way it was and it wasn’t a big deal. “What other explanation is there?”

“I went there looking for you. Because of what you did to Juliette. Your mother didn't want to tell me anything.”

“So you made her,” Adalind said knowingly.

“My choice was to let Juliette die,” Kelly said cooly.

There was a moment of silence and Sloane imagined Nick probably didn’t like hearing that from his and Hank’s post in the observation room.

“Your son took my powers. I was angry,” Adalind finally said, sounding defensive.

“But you got them back.”

“I did.”

“That couldn't have been fun. Who died in the process?” Kelly asked.

Adalind sounded annoyed now. “Why are we having this conversation?”

Kelly took a deep breath. “I had to give up my son because of who I was. If I hadn't done that, he might have been killed.”

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Adalind bit out. “I mean, if you're looking for some sort of forgiveness, I don't have any.”

“I'm not asking for forgiveness. I want you to understand. Sometimes we have to sacrifice what we love most.”

Sloane thought about her own mother for a moment. A woman who left her with her grandmother when she was just a couple of months old to go back to hunting wesen. Was that for love? To protect her? No, she rather doubted it. Her mother had visited maybe a handful of times in the 9 years before her grandmother died. Enough Sloane didn’t even recognize her. And when she did, she acted like Sloane didn’t exist. No calls, no letters or birthday cards, no hugs…Most who knew her were surprised when they found out she had a daughter. Kelly would talk about Nick as though she was missing a part of herself sometimes. She tried to stay with him, for nearly 15 years. A familiar sting welled up but she pushed it down.

The way Adalind rushed out when she realized what was happening, desperately searching…Sloane felt a slight twinge inside. It was a little painful and strange. There was a hint of guilt she knew, but there was something there too. Something she hadn’t felt since she was a child watching parents pick their kids up from school. She had to rouse herself and moved to try and intercept her, but she was grabbing Wu and asking where Renard had gone.

The captain was just entering the station and Adalind ran to him, angrily asking where he took her baby. Sloane didn’t wait to see how he handled that, instead she headed quickly to the interrogation area. “Adalind’s confronting Renard, we should get out of here and get ready.”

They nodded, heading for the back door and out to the street behind the station. As they headed to their car, they heard a shriek that made them wince and cover their ears. In her bones Sloane felt pain and despair and the others seemed to feel it too. Adalind knew her baby was gone.

“…You really sure not telling her was best?” Sloane asked.

“Adalind’s past speaks for itself,” Nick sighed.

She didn’t argue and climbed into the car.

Step 5 came that evening. They’d gone to Monroe and Rosalee’s where Renard’s contacts had dropped off a crate full of what they needed. They had a little time as Viktor had to now get supplies to care for an infant before leaving in the night according to his flight plan that was approved quickly.

“You okay?” Rosalee asked.

Sloane looked up and sighed a bit as she looked over the semi-automatic to make sure it was operational. It wasn’t loaded of course. The men were planning routes and getting together what else they might need. “I’m fine…”

“…You feel conflicted over this?”

Sloane looked at her and frowned. “…How do you read people like that?”

“It’s a gift,” she said, sitting down. “Also, I feel the same way…I know Adalind’s done awful things in the past, but…Having a baby can change people. And taking away a baby from its mother like this feels…wrong.”

“Yeah…I can’t help but feel this is going to bite us in the ass,” Sloane said.

“It might. Adalind’s pretty keen on revenge…” Rosalee said, nodding.

“…Kind of makes me glad I’m not gonna have kids.”

Rosalee looked at her curiously. “Ever?”

“Well…” Sloane sighed. “I…have thought about it, but…”

“The Grimm life kind of puts a damper on it?”

“Yeah…that and who would I have them with?” She frowned in distaste. “There were a few older Grimm who talked about “good breeding”. How best to go about making a strong next generation, trying to pair us up. Left a bad taste in my mouth that they treated me more like livestock.”

“I don’t blame you.” Rosalee hesitated but sat next to her on the floor. “You mentioned before you almost got married…”

Sloane glanced at her and hesitated before sighing and setting the gun aside. “When I was young and dumb, yeah. But it’s not like you and Monroe.”

“It’s not?”

“No. His name was Collin…I’d known him since we were pre-teens, a Grimm from Ireland. I see now Dierdre and Collin’s mentor were pairing us up, but at the time well…he was the only boy I knew my age that was also a Grimm. “Dating” him seemed expected. And I…think I loved him, but it’s hard for me to really tell now when I think about him…I don’t actually have much for a frame of reference now that I think about it and I certainly felt stronger for others…”

“…What happened?”

“…He was a bit too traditional. In a lot of senses. When we were younger I only saw him every couple of months maybe if I was lucky and we’d just kind of hang out. It was nice. But then we eventually were both on our own and we and a couple of other Grimms decided to travel together. We got a bit more official and for about 2 years it was fine, really. Then when I turned 20 he started talking about marriage and having kids. I thought it was a bit early for that but he said the sooner the better because he wanted a lot of kids. Can’t say I was thrilled but I knew it would be expected of me someday and I always figured we’d probably get married. Just…I wanted to be later.”

“And it caused a fight?” Rosalee asked, thinking she knew where it was going.

“Uh…sort of…” she said hesitantly.

“…Sort of?”

Sloane took a deep breath. “I’ve never really talked about this…It’s something I prefer not to think about because it’s scary to think how many things could’ve gone _worse _than how they did.”

“What did he do?” Rosalee asked slowly.

She sighed. “We fought on and off but I still took my birth control religiously. Then I found Collin tampering with it. He wanted to get me pregnant, whether I wanted it or not. Tie me down, as he literally put it, so I’d be his because he knew others had their eyes on me.”

“Oh my God!” Rosalee gasped in disgust.

“Yeah…I knew he was the jealous type, but that was scary. I’d never felt actually afraid of what he’d do to me before. That was a _fight_, like in all senses of the word. I told him that it was over. He didn’t want it to be and I had to get away from him because he tried to convince me…physically.” Rosalee looked ready to kill something herself so Sloane set a hand on her shoulder. “I ran from him and by extension the others I was traveling with, got in my car and sped off. He tried to track me down, apologize and get me to come back but his hunting techniques were also just out of control at that point. I told him no.”

“Good! I hope you kicked him in the balls!”

Sloane snorted a laugh and looked at Rosalee. “I didn’t, but sometimes I wish I did. We did meet up for a hunt some years after and he said he’d changed but I was still not interested. Then we met on and off in other places. When he set fire to a building in Prague and said anyone else but our targets were collateral I knew I was never going to stay with him. Haven’t seen him since and sometimes he tries to send me messages through the library system but I only ever reply if it’s an emergency. I really don’t want anything to do with him.”

“Yeah, you deserve better than that,” Rosalee said.

Sloane looked down at the guns by her side. “…Do I?”

“What?”

“Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just…I’m almost 30, only been with maybe 3 people in my life, I think I’m just going to say no thanks at this point.”

“Well…its up to you, but as long as that’s what you want. But 30 isn’t too old to start a family…”

“No, yeah, obviously,” she said, blushing when she realized Rosalee was her own age after all

“And there’s not wrong time to fall in love,” she said. She put an arm around her. “But if you do decide to settle down with someone, don’t be surprised if I interrogate them very hard to make sure they are worthy. And I don’t mean for just giving you kids because you don’t need a partner when you got us.”

She chuckled and sighed, feeling better now. “Thanks…”

\-------------------

Step 6, after getting dressed in black from head to toe, was getting to the airport. Rosalee drove them and Renard got them behind the scenes. While Monroe was one of their team, Rosalee headed back in the car so that it couldn’t be seen or traced. So together Kelly, Nick, Sloane, Renard, Monroe and Hank found the hangar Viktor’s plan would be leaving from and went to hunker down and find cover.

Viktor showed up after the sun was down, in a limo as expected. When he was out of the car they rushed in from their nearby hiding places. Sloane and Monroe shouted in German, pointing their weapons at all of them. Monroe ordered them to give them the child in German and since Viktor’s hubris thought he’d won and there were not enough guards to stand up to six of them with semi-automatics. Viktor reluctantly handed the baby over to the nearest masked assailant—Kelly—and they ordered them on the ground.

“You have no idea who you’re dealing with,” Viktor said coldly. None of them responded to the threat. Once they were sure the limo was clear, they piled in and took off.

Once they were far enough away they took the masks off to breath. “We did it…” Sloane sighed. “How is she?”

Kelly smiled. “Still asleep…”

“Let’s hope she stays that way for a while,” Renard said, looking at her with an expression that was hard to read.

“How was my German?” Monroe asked, looking excited.

“I believed it,” Hank said from the driver’s seat next to him.

Monroe smiled but then frowned. “But…you don’t speak German…”

“It was fine, Monroe,” Sloane said. “Hopefully they’ll assume it was the resistance or someone else…”

Renard was still staring at Diana. Kelly looked at him back sympathetically. “It has to be done,” she said.

He didn’t look completely convinced but nodded slowly. “I hope you’re right…”

The final step was setting Kelly up in the used truck with a proper baby seat and supplies that would get her far away.

“You sure you can do this alone?” Sloane asked.

“I’m sure. We’ll have to travel around for a while as long as the Royals and the Verrat are on alert, but hopefully we’ll try to avoid major stops and cities.”

“You better take good care of her,” Renard said.

“I will. If we can work out a system, I’ll try to send you updates, but it’ll be too dangerous right now.”

He nodded, though he didn’t look happy. No one could blame him.

“You’ve got our numbers if you need them,” Nick said.

“I know…” She framed his face and smiled. “I’m sorry I keep having to just run off…”

Nick smiled and patted her hands. “Someday we’ll get to visit a bit more.”

She nodded, kissing his forehead with a deep sigh before hopping into the truck just as dawn was breaking.

“…Your mom really does love you,” Sloane said quietly. “She talked about you a lot. Has your picture in that locket—something other Grimms saw as a liability.”

Nick nodded slowly. “I know…Just…I wish things could be different sometimes still…”

“We all do,” she said.

\-------------------

Nobody Knows the Trubel I’ve Seen/My Fair Wesen

\-----------------

There was no rest for them it seemed as the next morning there was a case. Two men found dead in the woods just outside of town. Wu was with them and though he looked troubled a moment he was quickly back to business as usual. He still was insistent on not talking about wesen or anything like them.

“The attack was pretty violent,” he said, leading them down the hilly embankment. “Hard to tell how many people were involved. Looks like we've got at least three sets of footprints.”

“These look like drag marks.” Nick said, noting the deep rivets in the muddy ground. The embankment evened off and there, out in the open, were two bodies of middle-aged men. Both Caucasian, one balding the other with brown hair, and both sporting several stab wounds and blood smeared across their body.

“Somebody had a really big knife and a really bad temper. Wow,” Wu said.

“Somebody really wanted to make sure they were dead,” Hank corrected. He kneeled down to start patting them down. “Well, nothing in the pockets on this one. No wallet.”

“Me either,” Nick said.

“I don’t think it was a straight up robbery,” Sloane said. “Unless we have multiple assailants, I don’t see one of these guys waiting for his turn while a robber stabs the other guy.”

Nick nodded in agreement. “You know how they got here? Any cars parked nearby?”

“No, not a one,” Wu said, shaking his head.

Hank sighed. “All right, let's get some fingerprints.” Wu nodded, going to get the digital finger print reader. The detectives started looking around in the leaves and brush around them.

“So we got two dead guys, but one set of drag marks,” Nick said.

“So who got dragged?” Hank asked.

“Probably not either of our victims, there’s no blood trail or marks to where they’re laid out, or mud on their heels or tops of their shoes,” Sloane said, looking through one nearby stalk of tall grass.

Nick smiled. “Good eyes.” She smiled proudly.

Hank paused near its base and crouched down. “Hey, I think I got something here.”

The others came over and there in the brush was a black chess piece. “Looks like a black knight...” Nick said.

“With blood on it. I don't think anybody was having a game of chess out here.”

“Could have been here before the attack.”

“But if it has blood on it, it was visible during the time of the attack at least so it would be fairly recent, right?” Sloane asked.

Hank nodded and gestured to one of the techs. “Office, mark this.”

They heard a series of beeps and looked over to Wu. “Huh, got some IDs here.”

“All right, let's run 'em,” Hank said, standing and heading to the computer resting on the trunk of one of the squad cars. Wu put the information into the database and pulled up the profile for the bald gentleman first, a mugshot popping up of when he was a bit livelier.

“The first vic is a real model citizen,” Wu said dryly. “Richard Hector Dunn, impressive arrest record. A few assaults, assorted DUIs, robbery.”

“What about number two?” Nick asked.

The second man’s mugshot came up. “Model citizen number two is Kirk Lewelyn Firebaugh. Huh, doesn't look like a Lewelyn to me…Anyway, more of the same. Assaults, B and Es...Oh, here we go... rape. More than once.”

“A lot less sympathetic to him now,” Sloane said. “If there was a place to do something like that, out here might be it though…” She looked at the drag marks with a deep frown. “Maybe someone interrupted them. Or brought them out here for revenge.”

“Possibilities for sure,” Nick nodded. “We need more information though.”

“Well, how did Mr. Dunn and Mr. Firebaugh get way out here to tangle with somebody?” Hank asked.

“I'll see if they have any vehicles registered to them,” Wu said.

“And get us the next of kin,” Nick reminded him. Wu nodded and they went to continue looking around the scene to be sure there were no other clues.

“…Adalind came to see me last night,” Nick said quietly when they were farther away from the others. It was pretty obvious there wasn’t much else there.

Hank and Sloane looked at him in surprise. “She didn’t figure out what we did, did she?” Hank asked worriedly.

“No…she wanted my and my mother’s help to get Diana back from the Royals…”

“Ah…awkward,” Sloane grimaced. “What’d you do?”

“I told her they released my mom—which is technically true—and that she left right after and I couldn’t get ahold of her.”

“Which is mostly true,” Sloane nodded.

“And that there was nothing we could do to go up against the royals.”

“How’d she take that?” Hank asked.

“Not…great. She’s determined and she’s ready to go on a warpath. Right now it’s to the Royal’s door but that might not be all if we aren’t careful.”

“How long is she sticking around?” Sloane asked.

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think you and she should meet still. I don’t think she knows about you and it might be best to keep it that way.”

“I’m fine with that, but can we keep her from finding out the truth about who took her baby?”

“I don’t know…I’ll talk with Renard, see if he has any ideas. He’s known her the longest.”

“That would be good,” Hank agreed. “I think we got what we can here, lets head back to the station.”

“Actually, you can go meet the next of kin on the way if you want,” Wu said, handing them a note. “It’s a different part of town but that would be Mr. Firebaugh’s brother, Cameron.”

“Thanks,” Nick said, taking it. Wu turned and walked off before saying anything else and Nick frowned. “…It feels like he’s really avoiding us now…or just doing the bare minimum.”

Hank and Sloane looked after him with concerned looks but Wu was acting normal otherwise. “He doesn’t want to talk about wesen,” Hank sighed. “Best to just let him work through it in his own time.”

“Provided something else doesn’t kick him in the face,” Sloane agreed.

They headed to the address marked and on the way Wu texted them the Firebaugh’s car information. The neighborhood they went to was about what they expected—a little run down and old, with houses that needed a little or a lot of TLC and some that maybe should not be inhabited by anything bigger than some rats and mice. Cameron Firebaugh lived in one of the slightly better looking houses, but it still had the musty feeling of stepping into a place that had no love for it.

He came to the door when they knocked, glaring at them. “Hello?”

“Cameron Firebaugh?” Nick asked.

“Yeah? What do you want?” he snapped. He had the same brown hair as his brother, but was a little thinner and more wiry, a short beard coating his chin and wearing a leather jacket despite the summer temperatures.

They showed their badges but rather than telling them to get the hell off his property, as they’d somewhat expected, he just sighed loudly and opened the door. “What is it now?” They followed him in and he went deeper into the house. It was the beginnings of a hoarding situation it looked like, lots of stacks of magazines and papers and books and dishware and bits of electronics of all kinds balanced on every surface that could be found.

“You have a brother? Kirk Firebaugh?” Hank asked, holding up a photo.

He looked at the photo—a mugshot—and nodded. “Yeah, that's my brother.”

“He live with you?”

“Eh, sometimes,” he said, shrugging. “But he didn't come home last night. You got him?”

“We found your brother's body off of St. Helen's road,” Nick said, bracing himself.

Cameron turned around from heading toward the kitchen, eyes wide. “What?”

“We found another body with him. We’ve identified him as Richard Dunn, do you know him?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, coming back around to them. “What the hell happened?!” He snarled and then woged suddenly—his features flattened and his body became covered in green scales. Large, yellow eyes with slit pupils looked at them and a forked tongue flicked out in agitation. He looked at Nick and Sloane and his eyes widened further. “Grimm!”

“Take it easy,” Nick said quickly.

He bared his fangs and then woged back, pointing at them with an accusatory finger. “You killed him!”

“No, we did not,” Nick said calmly. “But they were murdered, and we need you to calm down and talk to us.”

“We’re honestly trying to find out what happened,” Sloane added.

Cameron looked to Hank, the human in the room, but Hank didn’t look phased in the slightest. “I'm just a cop, and we're just trying to do our job. Now, do you know where your brother was last night?”

He still looked suspicious and on edge but nodded slowly finally. “Oh, yeah. Him and Rick went out drinking.”

“Anyone else with them?” Nick asked.

“Not that I know,” he said, still eyeing them as if sizing them up.

“Do you know where your brother's truck is?” Hank asked. “A 2004 Chevy Silverado...”

“I know what it is,” Cameron snapped. “It's not here. He drove it last night.”

“Now, your brother's friend, was he a Lausenschlange too?” Nick asked.

Cameron looked down and away, not meeting his eyes. “I don't know what you mean…”

“Seriously?” Sloane said, putting a bit more bite into her words. “You woged in front of us just a second ago and called us Grimm, you think we’re here to play that game? What kind of wesen was he?”

He shook his head, glancing at them but away again. “No, not like us…Klaustreich.”

“Anything else we need to know?” Hank asked.

He glared at him. “Look, I don't know what you think happened, but nobody could have taken my brother _and_ Rick and lived to tell about it.” He looked back at Nick and Sloane. “Except maybe you.”

Sloane stared him back. “If it was me, I wouldn’t deny it,” she said simply.

He sighed and turned. “…I know my brother is…was all kinds of messed up, but he’s my brother,” Cameron said.

“We’ll let you know if we find anything,” Nick said, turning to head out with Sloane and Hank close behind.

\---------------------------------

“We got some possibilities here on the vics,” Hank said. “Firebaugh and Dunn have some known associates here in the system. Three of them are dead, two are still in prison, and a half a dozen here in the area.”

“Too bad there's not a box you can check if they're wesen,” Nick joked, setting the file he was reading to the side.

“Yeah. Wouldn't that just make our lives so much easier?” Hank laughed.

“But it would take all the fun and surprise out of life,” Sloane said sarcastically as she stood to go put a file back where she got it.

“Got a hit on the victim's vehicle,” Wu announced when she was heading back. She noticed Nick was on the phone and looking a little flustered but Wu went on. “Firebaugh's truck was found in the southeast industrial.”

“I got to go,” Nick said to his phone, standing and heading out with them. They headed down to the car and it was hard not to miss that he was agitated.

“Nick, what’s wrong?”

He glanced back at her and sighed. “…Monroe called before we left. Adalind’s gone back to their house.”

“Oh, great,” Hank sighed. “Are they okay?”

“Yeah, but they say she’s a wreck and she doesn’t have a lot of options…I told them keep her there for now, try and calm her down and we’ll see what we can figure out.”

“The fact that is our best option does not make me feel good,” Sloane said.

“I know. But right now we also got a case to work on so…let’s work on it outside of our jobs.”

They nodded, but a witch staying with their best friends who helped them steal said witch’s child without her knowledge was a bit distracting to say the least.

The truck itself was parked at a warehouse near the river, looking no worse for wear. “Any surveillance cameras in the area?” Hank asked hopefully.

“No, nothing around here,” Nick knew. “Whoever dumped it here probably picked this place for that reason.”

“All right, two guys driving down the highway late at night. Did they have the killer with them?”

“Or maybe they picked the killer up somewhere else?” Nick said. He opened the doors, it being a suicide door model so allowing for a wide opening.

“Could be someone targeted them too. Long record, long list of possible enemies,” Sloane pointed out.

“But we still have those drag marks,” Hank said. Sloane nodded a bit, remembering those.

“Well, whoever it was, I'm guessing they didn't know what they were getting into,” Nick said.

“Woman?” Hank guessed.

“If it was, that's one bad-ass woman,” Nick said. They paused and glanced at Sloane.

“…Thank you, but no. I had no reason to be out that way that night,” she said.

“Well, no blood that I can see,” Hank said.

“A couple beer bottles, whiskey bottle,” Nick noted on the floorboard of the front seat.

“A little late to arrest them for dui. But in retrospect, I'm sure they would have preferred that.”

Sloane looked around the outside of the vehicle for any possible clues, running a gloved hand over it. It has a few scratches and dings, but nothing that was really going to give them anything. Pausing, she remembered what Cameron Firebaugh had said. “_Nobody could’ve taken my brother and Rick…except maybe you._” Pulling out her phone, she brought up Gallin’s text chat.

_Hey. Are there any card holders in my area besides Nick?_

She didn’t expect an answer right away and put the phone in her pocket.

“I got a French fry,” Hank said suddenly.

“One?” Nick asked in confusion.

He reached under the seat to pull it out.

“Yeah. Still crispy. Not soggy. Hasn't been stepped on.”

Sloane leaned down to look under the seat. “Otherwise relatively clean…looks recently cleaned actually, but then that fry was there…”

“So guys got hungry, stopped for fast food, but no bags, no wrappers. Were these guys that clean?” Nick asked. They all glanced at the bottles.

“Doubt it,” she said.

Hank nodded and looked over at the officers gathered nearby. “Wu!”

Wu hesitated a moment before walking over. “Yeah?”

“Any idea where this is from?” Hank asked, holding out the fry.

“Wait, is Wu a fry aficionado?” Sloane asked.

“Something like that,” Wu said, though not as snarky as she expected. He pulled out an evidence bag to take it. “Each French fry is like a fingerprint. Every fast-food restaurant's got its own cut.”

Hank nodded and put it in the bag. “Check every fast-food fry between here and the crime scene.”

“Yeah. I was kind of hungry anyway,” he sighed, heading off.

Sloane’s phone buzzed and she pulled it back out, surprised but happy Gallin got back to her so quickly.

Gallin: _Not that I know of. I’ll ask around if you like._

Sloane frowned, having both hoped and dreaded that another Grimm was in town. Hoped because maybe that would explain things. Dreaded because dear God, what would she do if there was one here? And worse, she knew them?

Sloane: _I’d appreciate that. Let me know._

She put the phone away again with a sigh and got back to work.

When they returned to the station later that afternoon, Nick put a hand on her shoulder. “I need to talk to Renard about Adalind…” He looked at Hank who held up a hand.

“Go on, I’ll check for updates.”

They nodded and headed in to Renard’s office, closing the door behind them. Renard was looking over a file but didn’t seem annoyed by the disturbance. There was still an air of disappointment and regret around him.

“Just wanted to see how you were holding up,” Nick said.

“I've been better,” Renard sighed.

Nick nodded and took a breath. “I thought I should tell you that Monroe called. Adalind went back to their house. And she visited me last night.”

Rendard didn’t’ seem too surprised, turning his head to show scratches like someone tried to claw at his face. “Yeah, me too. Probably lucky that's all she did. What'd you tell Monroe?”

“Just to keep her there until we can figure out what to do,” Nick said.

“She’s trying to figure out how to get the baby back,” Sloane said.

Renard sighed again, heavily with regret. “I don't know how to make things better for her...”

“Well, maybe I should talk to her,” Nick said.

“No,” Renard and Sloane said together, surprising him in stereo.

“If she ever finds out that the baby's with your mother, she'll never stop trying to find her,” Renard pointed out.

“And that’s a danger to everyone involved. You, Kelly, the baby, Monroe and Rosalee, _Juliette,_” Sloane said.

“It's better if she thinks that I gave the child to Viktor.”

Nick frowned at both admonishing him. “What if she tries to contact Viktor?”

Renard shrugged. “He'll have no interest in her now. And even if he tells her he doesn't have the child, she won't believe him.”

They nodded and Sloane nodded at the file he was going through, glancing the picture. “What about Mr. Steward, our FBI agent? Do we have a plan for him?”

Renard sighed and laid the file down, showing Weston’s picture and what information they had on him. “We’d have to find him first…”

“Have you contacted the feds?” Nick asked.

“Yeah, they're looking for him too. Apparently, he hasn't shown up for work and he's not communicating.”

“Oh, AWOL. Fun,” Sloane said.

“I think I might have seen him on the street last night following,” Renard said. “He may have indeed gone rogue.”

“Well I already dislocated one finger for him, I’m happy to go nine more times if he wants to make an appointment,” she smiled.

There was a knock at the door and they turned to see Hank poke his head in. “Sorry. Wu's back. He's got surveillance on the suspect.”

Renard nodded to them to go.

“Watch your back,” Nick said.

“Yeah, you too. Both of you.”

The nodded and followed Hank back over to their desks, where Wu was pulling up footage on the computer. “Checked 12 restaurants,” Wu said. “Only two had the style of fry left in the truck. Pulled surveillance on both of them, and lo and behold, got our truck.” He pointed at the screen and they saw a somewhat grainy video of the Silverado in the drive through of a restaurant, shortly after when the murder must’ve took place. “But I was a little surprised to see who was driving.” He tapped the keys and a picture from the drive thru window came up. In the driver’s seat was a young woman with short black hair, wide doe-like eyes, a cute robust nose and full lips. She was ordering from the drive through, dressed in a jacket and a pair of gloves.

“You're kidding me,” Hank said, staring at the photo.

“Not exactly your average stone-cold killer,” Wu agreed.

“She doesn't look very old,” Nick said, tilting his head, shocked.

“Thinking 19 to 21 going on deadly,”

“Well, she’s been around the block before,” Sloane said. “She's wearing gloves, so that’s why there weren’t any fingerprints reported.”

“Let's make copies and circulate it,” Hank said. Wu nodded and took the laptop with him.

They went to go search their files for any leads at their desks. Nick picked up the black chess knight in it’s evidence bag, frowning at it. It had a chain through it so it was meant as a necklace. What kind of female young wesen could take on a Klaustreich and a Lausenschlange?”

“You're speaking rhetorically, right?” Hank asked.

“I’m more curious what being female has to do with it,” Sloane said evenly.

Nick flushed and tried to smile. “You know what I mean…”

“Mmmhmm. All I know is, males of a lot of species are smaller than their female counter parts—and usually get eaten once they serve their purpose.” Sloane picked up her phone, texting to Gallin as she spoke. The boys grimaced at one another at the thought.

Sloane: _Got possible description. Cardholder female, late teens to early twenties, black hair, slight build. Ring any bells?_

“The same is true for many wesen,” she finished. “Female Museishi for example. Can physically take on most any man, wesen or not, and once done with mating with him she cuts off his head and sucks the gooey bits out.”

“Okay, on that note, I think it's time to talk to Monroe,” Nick said, disgusted and annoyed at her look of amusement.

\-------------------------

Knocking on Monroe’s door, he answered quickly and shushed them, whispering, “Adalind is asleep.” He glanced over at the couch and they could see a blonde head resting on the headrest, curled up. “Do you want to talk to her?”

“I don't,” Nick said, shaking his head quickly. “We have a wesen problem.”

Monroe sighed, though it seemed almost relieved. “Okay, can we do this at the trailer?”

“Sure,” Nick nodded.

“Good, 'cause...” he glanced back again. “Better to leave sleeping Hexenbeasts lie…you know?”

“I’m fine with that,” Sloane said.

They got into the car, updating him on the situation quickly. “Wow, taking on a Lausenschlange and a Klaustreich at the same time? That takes some seriously large... well, in her case, figurative cojones.”

“What kind of wesen is she?” Hank asked.

“I don't know,” he said, shrugging helplessly. “I guess... You got your Augapfel-Aushacken. Were their eyes pecked out? ‘Cause they'll do that to a man.”

“No. But they were cut up pretty good,” Nick said, trying not to wince.

“Didn’t look like claws though,” Sloane pointed out.

“Okay…could be a Fetide Taillader. You could smell them a mile away. Oh, on the other hand, you know what? You could be dealing with a female Sangrienta Manos, although, truth be told, they usually consume the intestines, so...”

“I don't like the sound of any of them,” Hank said.

“You wouldn't like the look of them either,” Monroe said confidently.

“Also no eating of intestines or any part of them it looks like…” Sloane said. Her phone buzzed and she quickly pulled it out.

Gallin: _I don’t have anyone who’s checked in near Portland in the last few weeks. That description doesn’t sound familiar to me either, sorry._

She sighed a little and replied.

Sloane: _It’s fine. I’m worried we might have company though. I’ll keep you posted._

“So what else can you tell me about the...” Monroe started, but Nick’s phone rang and he quickly pulled it out with an apologetic look.

“Burkhardt…Where?...Yeah, we can be there in five minutes.” He hanged up and looked at all of them. “Change of plans. We got another attack. Victim was cut, only this one's still alive.” Hank nodded, turning on the sirens and speeding up.

Monroe glanced around, unsure. “So I guess I'm going?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sloane said. “But we’ll be handling it.”

“Okay…” he said, breathing out.

When they got to the park where the attack happened, the EMTs were working on a woman in a black hoodie who had been slashed and stabbed. The detectives climbed out but when Monroe opened his door, Hank looked at him.

Monroe frowned but sighed and closed the door again. “I know. I know. Stay out of the way.”

“We’ll let you know what we find,” Sloane said, tapping the top of the car and walking over with her partners.

Wu was waiting for them, but still didn’t quite look at them as he lead them over to the scene. “Looks like the same M.O. Assault was reported by a jogger. His description matches our young suspect. Said she took off running heading in that direction. I've got two units in the area.”

“We're losing her,” one of the EMTs said. They all looked down at the woman in concern. “Still no response. I can't find a pulse.”

She gasped, a wet sound as there was probably blood in her lungs, and her face rippled into a reptilian face with yellow scales and a crest of small, bumpy horns. Nick looked at Sloane who nodded to him and they looked at Hank. Sloane crossed her arms but subtly held up three fingers facing him—W, for wesen, a sign they’d come up with for moments like these. Hank huffed out a sigh.

“She's gone,” the other EMT sighed.

“Note the time, contact the M.E.”

Nick looked around, wishing he could see some sort of sign. “This isn't too far from where she left the truck…”

“All right, get some units out here to canvass the area,” Hank said. “If she's still here, she's got to be staying close.”

Wu nodded and started getting people mobilized. Sloane went over and knocked on Monroe’s window and he climbed out. “Got something?”

“Yeah…” Sloane sighed, having him move with her to the edge of the crime scene and Nick and Hank. The body bag was passing them on the way to the ambulance as they did.

Monroe scented the air and huffed. “A Skalengeck?”

“That would be our victim,” Nick said.

“No kidding? Huh…” He sniffed the air more, moving his head around.

“You picking up anything else?” Nick asked.

He shook his head. “Not wesen. Doesn't mean they're not disguising it.”

“Oh, you mean like wolfsbane,” he nodded.

“That's what that stuff was for?” Hank asked, remembering the time Nick rubbed Wolfsbane all over him. That was his first wesen case apparently, the mailman in the woods who was actually a blutbad that kidnapped a girl. That and several other cases had been a trip to find out the truth later.

“Yeah. There are a few other things that can be used to blind certain wesen’s nose, but wolf’s bane works on most species like blutbad, hundjager, etc,” Sloane nodded. Her own memory was of the herbs drying in the hidden cupboard her grandmother put her into, rubbing them over her before shutting her in.

“Think you can figure out where the victim came from?” Nick asked.

Monroe nodded. “Skalengecks not being overly hygienic, should be doable.” He started sniffing the air, moving around. He lead them back over towards the ambulance. “She's all over the place…”

“At least we don't have to explain to anybody what we're doing here,” Hank said.

“Guys, hey!” Wu shouted, jogging over. “Just got a hit on the suspect and…Hey, Monroe,” he said, pausing. “Haven't seen you since the zombie romp.”

Monroe looked confused for a moment before smiling in recognition. “Oh, yeah! Wow, that was a night to remember.”

“Uh, yeah, it's a night I'd rather forget,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Just, uh...” He started.

“It’s regarding something else you wanted to forget,” Sloane said.

Wu stared, glancing at Monroe. “O-oh…?”

“Yeah…You said something about the suspect?” Nick prompted.

Wu swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, manager of the SRO hotel just called in. He, um, he's got one of our flyers, and he thinks she's there, but not for long, 'cause she's checking out.”

They were immediately on alert. “We'll take this one,” Nick said.

“You want streets blocked off?” Wu asked, already backing up.

“Not until we know it's her!”

He nodded and jogged off.

“Still in denial about the whole wesen thing?” Monroe sighed.

“Yep…but bigger concerns now, c’mon,” Sloane said, heading back for their car. Hank drove once again and they were trying to get to the location as fast as possible.

“Anything special we should know about the wesen you told us about?” Nick asked.

“Which one, the Augapfel-Aushacken, the Fetide Taillader, or the Sangrienta Manos?” Monroe rattled off.

“Yeah, what you just said,” Hank said.

He shrugged. “No. Not particularly. I mean, if you get a chance shoot 'em. Actually, if it is a Augapfel-Aushacken, even if you don't get a chance, shoot 'em.” Nick and Sloane both blinked in confusion and Monroe flushed. “I'm not sure what I just said, but you know what I mean?”

“Yeah…I’m not sure it’s any of those though,” Sloane said slowly.

Nick looked back at her. “Did you think of something?”

“I thought of it earlier, what the victim’s brother said…that no one could take on his brother and a klaustreich at the same time. Except maybe one of us.”

Nick’s eyes widened and Monroe froze next to her. “You…think it’s a-”

“Guys, I think that’s her!” Hank said quickly. Looking up, they saw the girl in question crossing the street, a backpack over her shoulder.

“Pull over here. I'll get behind her,” Nick said. Hank slowed and let Nick out and he started purposefully following the girl.

“…Remind me to work with him on how to nonchalantly follow,” Sloane said, watching him. “He’s walking like he’s either waiting for a chance to mug her or he needs to go to the bathroom really badly…”

“It’s a tense situation,” Monroe defended.

“Made more tense if she sees him following her like that…”

“Well, let’s stop the following,” Hank said, speeding up and then turning so the car blocked her path. The girl stopped, confused and panicked and turned to go back when Nick moved in.

“Stop, police!” She skidded to a halt as Hank and Sloane got out of the car. Looking around for an exit, they did not expect her to rush the car and vault onto the roof and over. Neither did Monroe, getting out on the other side. She narrowly avoided hitting him but the surprise of nearly getting kicked in the face made him vogue. Fear flashed through the girl’s face.

“No!” She took a small machete from a hidden sheath in her back, moving to strike him.

Monroe woged back in shock and managed to get away. Nick came around the side and tackled her around the middle, making her drop the machete.

“Let me go!” she yelled, managed to twist and push him down, punching him in the ribs.

“Okay, enough of that!” Sloane yelled, grabbing her around the middle and lifting. “We’re not going to hurt you and neither is the guy with fangs, so simmer down!”

She paused a moment, looking up at her, but then started fighting again. “You’re not going to kill me! Let go!”

“I just said-Ah!” Sloane reeled back from an elbow to the cheek. Her grip loosened but Nick had the girl before she could run, managing to flip her and get her pinned.

“You okay?” He asked.

Sloane hissed, knowing she was going to have a hell of a bruise. “She can’t control her strength but it’s there,” she said. “That’s what I get for being gentle…”

“So she is a Grimm,” Monroe breathed, looking at her worriedly. “I saw it…she is a Grimm.”

Nick grunted as he managed to get the cuffs on her despite her bucking and screaming that she was going to kill them. She sounded so young as she screamed, her voice cracking. “Settle down!” Nick ordered, pushing her against the squad car facing them, her hands secure. “You’re a Grimm, right?” She stared at him, confusion warring with anger as she panted. Nick frowned and glanced at Monroe. “You sure?”

“I know what I saw!” he said.

Sloane eyed her before leaning in. “Are you still in training? Do you…have a mentor?” She looked at her, still confused. “You’re a Grimm. You recognized that.”

“It doesn’t mean anything!” she barked.

“Yes it does,” Nick said.

“No! It’s just what they yell before they try and kill me!” She struggled again and Hank and Nick managed to keep her down.

Sloane sighed, looking around. “We shouldn’t do this out in the open.”

Nick nodded. “Okay…get her in the back.”

“Whoa, dude, I am not riding back there with her,” Monroe said, looking at him like he was crazy.

Nick nodded and looked at Sloane. “You and me?”

She nodded, going around the other side. Nick and Hank managed to wrestle her in, Sloane pulling, and he sat on her other side so the new Grimm was sandwiched between them. Monroe grabbed the backpack that fell, and the machete on the ground with pinched fingers as he went to the front passenger seat.

“You’re going to try and kill me,” she said, looking around with wild eyes.

“No, we’re not,” Nick said.

She looked down and then reared her head back as if to head butt him. Sloane was faster and pressed her head back to the seat with a hand to her forehead.

“Stop it. We don’t want to hurt you, and you’re just going to hurt yourself doing this,” she said.

She tried to struggle but Sloane held firm. “So are you going to arrest me?” she bit out.

Nick sighed. “No, we’re not doing that either.”

“Well what are we going to do?” Hank asked helplessly.

“Just drive for now,” Nick said.

Hank frowned but started the car to get moving.

“You going to behave?” Sloane asked. The girl glared at her but seemed to have wound down. She removed her hand to let her neck relax.

It was quiet a moment, everyone tense, before Nick tried to talk to her again. “The guys who attacked you were wesen, and the girl in the park the other day was wesen.” She looked at him, not saying anything but there was a hint of confusion in her eyes. “You know what a wesen is, right?” No answer. He sighed and pointed at Monroe. “Okay, he is a wesen. He's a Blutbad.” She turned her eyes to Monroe, narrowing them.

“You know, I don't think we need to get into that just now,” Monroe said, looking nervous.

“Well, we have to figure out what she knows,” Nick said.

“She is a Grimm, okay?” he said. “Whether she knows it or not.”

“It’s not just that,” Sloane said, looking her over. “She’s untrained…ungeschultes auge,” she sighed. The girl glanced at her but still kept her eyes on Monroe.

“That bad?” Monroe asked. She gave him a look that said they’d talk later.

“What's your name?” Nick tried. She didn’t answer, just glared at him.

“Sure you don't want to arrest her?” Hank asked.

“Not if she talks to us.”

“Screw you,” she finally spat.

“Oh, that's a start,” Monroe said sarcastically.

“What do you want to do with her?” Hank tried again. “We can't just drive around.”

Nick sighed and tried to smile reassuringly. “Hey. We’re trying to help. What's your name? Where are you from?” She just glared again and Sloane shook her head, knowing this was a loosing fight here. He sighed again and looked back at Hank. “All right, let's take her in.”

\--------------------------

They booked her, though there were no formal charges yet, and brought her to the station.

“Her name is Theresa Rubel,” Hank said. “She was born in New York City.”

“Long way from there,” Sloane said.

“She's 21, and she's got quite a history for someone so young, covering a lot of states. Mostly breaking and entering, petty theft. Surprised there's no assaults.”

Nick found a pocket knife still covered in what looked like dry blood and grimaced. “There probably were, just not reported.”

“Her last known address was Washington state psychiatric facility in Spokane. That was... Two months ago.”

Sloane closed her eyes and sighed, feeling a bit of disappointment hearing that. Not surprise but the knowledge that that was what usually happened.

“She doesn't know she's a Grimm,” Nick nodded. “She probably thinks she's going crazy.”

“I don’t think it’s just her. If she ever talked about what she sees, she was probably locked up by other people,” Sloane said.

Nick and Hank glanced at one another, knowing Sloane had been through something similar.

“…You figured it was a Grimm before we did,” Nick said.

“It was a hunch,” she sighed. “After what Cameron Firebaugh said.”

“You didn’t mention it,” Hank said, a little miffed.

“I wasn’t sure. I’d texted Gallin to check out if there were any recent reports from nearby through the libraries. She didn’t have any so I hoped I was wrong.”

“Why?”

Sloane tapped a finger on the desk in agitation but sighed. “I was worried it was someone I knew. Dierdre, some old hunting partners, anyone who knew me.”

“What, you ashamed of us?” Nick asked, though it was slightly joking.

“More like afraid of them now,” she honestly but quietly. Nick and Hank were surprised she admitted that. “I hanged with a rough crowd. If they found out about Monroe and Rosalee, any of the others, maybe even you and Hank…it would not be pretty. Monroe and Rosalee for sure would be dead. You and I…not sure. Hank might be okay or they might see him as a liability. And even so…I once fought along side them. They were something similar to friends, I think, though it’s hard to tell now. I was honestly really anxious who it might be and if I’d have to fight them…”

Nick put a hand on hers. “Hey…we’d be okay. And we’d do our best that no one had to die, you know that.”

She smiled, though it was strained. “I know…doesn’t make me worry less that day might come though.” She sighed and picked up a notebook. “But, we need to focus on the now.”

“Yeah. If she’s been in one mental health facility, she’s probably been in others,” Hank said. “I’ll see if I can get her juvenile records.”

Sloane nodded at opened the note. She sat up straighter when she saw sketches of various wesen inside—it seemed journaling was an instinct for Grimms. “Nick, look,” she said, moving to look through it with him. While there were a few notes on the wesen, there was a lot of what looked like word art—mantras that she would not be broken, that she would live and survive even if she had to kill.

Nick frowned as he looked through it with her. “She’s been through a lot…”

Sloane nodded. “I can’t speak for all of her life, but I’m fairly sure that she doesn’t go looking for them. The two men more than likely tried to drag her off, it was just bad luck they chose her. And the girl…I ran her information already, she’s got priors for robbery and assault as well.”

He looked at her. “…What do you want to do?”

She took a deep breath. “…She has no idea what she is and has had to deal with this for who knows how long. Maybe I would’ve ended up like that if it weren’t for Deidre…”

“You want to tell her then?”

“I think she deserves to know.”

“And then what?”

Sloane closed the notebook and tapped it against her hand. “…I want to prepare her. If she knows more, she can at least know she’s not crazy and maybe prepare herself better. We could mentor her. Or I could, if that’s too much…”

Nick smiled a bit. “So you want to keep her here in Portland?”

“You kept me,” she pointed out, smiling wryly. “And that wasn’t such a horrible decision, right?”

“Surprisingly, no.”

She popped him with notebook and he smiled more. But Sloane sobered a bit. “And I’ve probably done much worse in my past…”

Nick sighed but nodded slowly with a smile. “We can see if she agrees. First step will be telling her the truth.”

Sloane nodded. “Let me talk to her for a moment. Then…maybe the trailer? Or my house?”

“Trailer,” Nick nodded.

“Okay…Give me about ten to break the ice, then come we can go from there. Also, you’ll have to tell Hank.” She stood, heading for the cells with the notebook.

Theresa was sitting on the cot in her cell, looking resigned. She started when the door to the cell room opened and Sloane came in, eyeing her. “You feeling calmer?” Sloane asked. She just stared at her stonily and Sloane sighed and held up the notebook. That got her attention and she stood.

“What are you doing with that?” Theresa snapped, moving to try and grab it through the bars. Sloane held it out of reach.

“Research. Part of my job.”

“So you’re snooping through my stuff to figure out where to ship me off?” she asked bitterly.

“In a manner of speaking. But we found plenty already, Ms. Rubel.” She clicked her tongue and looked away. Sloane opened the book. “You’re pretty good at drawing.”

“Yeah, my active imagination, right?”

“Oh, I know you didn’t imagine these,” Sloane said. “I’ve seen them all myself.”

Theresa stared before snorting. “Yeah right.”

Sloane turned it around, pointing to one picture. A man with a face like a rhinoceros. “This is a “Dickfelig”. Funny name, I know, but they’re pretty strong right? That have that tough skin almost like armor. You gotta stab them in their softer bits and under their arms works best.” She turned another page. “This is a Reinegan. He played an instrument, right?”

Trubel stared, then looked at the picture of the man with rate like features and teeth. She hadn’t drawn or mentioned a musical instrument but she nodded. “A…A guitar…On the subway back in New York. I accidently kicked his change and he…he changed, but no one else saw it. He ran when he saw me...”

“The rats liked him? Especially when he played?”

“Y-yeah.”

Sloane kept flipping and pointing them out. “Schalengeck, that would be the woman you fought today. Then we got on your trail because of a Langanschlang and a Klaustreich—snake and cat.” Sloane looked at her. “…They tried to hurt you, right?”

Theresa looked a little haunted but nodded slowly. “They all do…Unless they just run from me.”

“The smart ones run,” Sloane said, closing the notebook. “Theresa…I know a little of what you’ve been through. I was told I was crazy when I was a child for seeing these monsters. But I had someone to tell me the truth and I want to do that for you.”

“The truth?” she asked hesitantly.

“You’re what’s called a Grimm. They’ve called you that before?”

“Yeah…” she nodded. “They always sound kind of scared or angry…”

“Because we can see them. Like my partner said, they’re called “wesen”. Nick, who tried to talk to you in the car, can see them and I can see them without them revealing themselves to others. That makes us a threat to them.”

“What about the other guy?”

“Hank? He knows about wesen, but he can’t see them like we can. They have to want him to see.”

“And…the _other_ guy?” she asked hesitantly.

“That is Monroe. And he’s…a friend.”

“Bullshit!” she hissed.

“No, he is,” she tried to smile. “I used to hate any wesen out there, but he and several others are my friends now. He’s a good guy. He won’t hurt you unless you give him a reason, unlike some.” Theresa didn’t look convinced.

The door opened again and Nick poked his head in. “Everything okay?”

She nodded. “You two ready?”

“Yeah.” He came in and looked at Theresa, who was eyeing him warily but not openly hostile now. “Having a good talk?”

“Not sure I believe either of you,” Theresa said. “I’ve had psych doctors try this before, acting like they could see or understand…Get me to let down my guard.”

“That’s why we’re going to show you more,” Nick said. He got out a set of hand cuffs and the key to the cells. “We’re gonna get you out of there to show you something. Right now we’re just holding you, no charges have been filed.” He motioned for her to turn and she sighed but did as he opened the door and quickly cuffed her. “But try anything and I won’t hesitate to arrest you for murder.”

Theresa didn’t look impressed but followed him out the door. They headed out of the precinct and Hank was waiting out front in the car for them. “You sure about this?” he asked as they loaded in, flanking their captive again.

“It’s our best option at this moment,” Sloane said.

The sun was setting and it was dark by the time they got to the small city based RV park where the trailer was parked. They got out and Nick nodded. “What I want to show you is in there,” he said, leading her to it.

Theresa jerked away from him, glaring venomously. “Sure it is. I’m not going in there with you!”

Hank nodded. “She’s right, I wouldn’t go in there with us in her shoes.”

“Then you can come in with me,” Sloane said, coming up next to her and uncuffing her. “Trust me. You’ll want to see this. I promise it will validate everything I said.”

She hesitated a moment but finally sighed and followed her up to the door. Once inside she froze and looked around in confusion at the lights, herbs hanging up, the small daybed and desk—it was a lot to take in. But Sloane grabbed the first book she had resting on the desk and held it out to her.

“What’s this supposed to be,” she said.

“It’s the truth no one told you before,” Nick said from the bottom of the steps. She glanced at him, but then back to the book. Taking it from Sloane, she opened it and froze. Eyes widening, she started flipping through the pages, taking in the sketches and the bits of information and extras inside. “This…what…?”

Sloane smiled. “You’re not alone. Our ancestors—_your_ ancestors, have been seeing wesen for hundreds, maybe thousands of years.”

She sat heavily on the daybed, still looking at the book. “…What’s the truth that you talk about?” she asked. It wasn’t combative, but a genuine, almost scared whisper. As if she thought they would pull the rug out from under her.

“I explained a bit before but there’s more. It could take a while though.”

“I’ll get some coffee,” Hank offered.

“I think dinner would be better,” Nick said. Sloane heard a slight gurgle at that and glanced at Theresa who blushed slightly. “Let me call Juliette,” Nick said, taking his phone out. “Coordinate what would work best.” He stepped away and Hank climbed into the trailer.

“So…you’re not a Grimm,” Theresa clarified.

“Nope,” he shook his head. “But I get by being Nick’s partner.”

“With the police? I mean…you guys are kind of…weird for cops.”

He sighed but nodded. “I am well aware…”

Nick stepped up and looked in. “Okay, Juliette is ordering Chinese and I asked if she could get enough for five. So...”

“We’re leaving?” Theresa asked, disappointed and maybe a bit defensive.

“We’ll be back,” Sloane said. “But I think talking on an empty stomach might not help any of us. We can bring you back later.”

She hesitated but finally nodded, following them down.

When they got to Nick’s house, the food had arrived and Juliette was spooning it out. She turned and smiled when she saw them but then paused. “I thought Monroe would be coming…”

“No, uh…we have a new visitor,” Nick said, stepping aside to show Theresa where she was hanging back. She was looking at the house uncertainly, as if unsure she should touch anything. “This is Theresa Rubel.”

“Oh…so, she’s our 5th guest?” she smiled. “Um, it’s nice to meet you, Theresa.”

She looked Juliette up and down and shifted her backpack. “No one calls me Theresa…”

Juliette blinked but kept smiling. “Ah…So what do they call you?”

“Trubel,” she said. Sloane arched her brow but just smiled slightly, a little amused at the tough girl persona. 

“Oh, that’s…an interesting name,” Juliette said. “So, um…”

“Trubel,” Sloane said, “just found out she’s a Grimm.”

Juliette’s eyebrows lifted. “Oh…wow, um…”

“You wanna wash your hands before dinner?” Sloane asked, though it implied she should do it.

“…Okay,” she said, knowing it was probably to get her to step away. Juliette pointed to the kitchen with a smile and Trubel headed in.

Juliette stepped in close, shock clear now. “Another Grimm? You’re sure?”

“Monroe saw her,” Nick nodded. “We were pretty surprised too.”

“More than a little,” Hank said.

“She was too,” Sloane said. “She’s ungeschultes auge.”

“You said that before,” Hank said. “What’s that mean?”

“It’s literally “Untrained Eye”,” she said with a wry smile. “Grimms who inherit their gifts but have no one to explain it to them or who don’t get a mentor. It’s not as common anymore, but it happens. More often with a Grimm father.”

“Why a Grimm father?” Nick asked.

“Well, men who travel, maybe have a one-night stand…” she said, gesturing _and then_ with her hands.

“Ah…” he said, grimacing.

“Yeah. Though truthfully, it’s much more likely a child will inherit with a Grimm mother. Men don’t pass on the Grimm gene as often anymore…But we haven’t asked much about Trubel’s family because well…”

“Is she involved with a case?” Juliette asked.

They all gave various looks that said _Yes, but…_ “She, uh…kind of killed a couple of wesen,” Nick

“What?” Juliette said stonily. “She’s a _murder suspect_?”

“Well, not technically a suspect because we know she did it,” Nick said.

“It was self-defense,” Sloane said firmly.

“Well, we’re pretty sure,” Hank amended.

Juliette looked like she was talking to the three stooges and shook her head. “I…First your mom shows up with Adalind and a baby, and now you bring home a Grimm you barely know who’s killed 3 people? _That we know of?_”

“Hey, I killed a lot more than that before I settled here,” Sloane said.

“Not that encouraging I’ll be honest,” she said. “I mean, I understand, but…”

“Juliette, I know it’s a lot,” Nick started.

“You think?”

“She’s been on her own and running for years,” Nick continued. “She thought she was crazy. She just needs a little help. And well…we want to help her,” Nick said, glancing at Sloane.

Sloane nodded. “If she understands what she is, she can at least know she’s not crazy. That’s what everyone has been telling her since whenever she inherited and…” She sighed, looking worried.

“…You really think you can help her?”

“You guys helped me,” Sloane said. They smiled a bit at Sloane for that. That she referred to it as help was endearing some how.

“I took her to the trailer,” Nick said. “tried to explain what she was as best I could, but that's a lot to take in.” He set his hands on her shoulder. “Juliette, she just needs a warm bed, a roof, and a little understanding.”

“…Is that roof and warm bed here?”

“I was thinking my place actually,” Sloane said. Nick looked at her in surprise. “I’ve got an extra room, she can look over my stuff and, well…I can start training her. Like I was doing for Nick before we kind of…stopped.”

“Yeah…” Nick nodded. “But I can help still.”

She smiled and nodded and Juliette seemed a little relieved.

“…Where is she?” Hank asked, looking around. They all looked at one another before heading for the kitchen. All of them envisioned different things—an open back door, a missing knife, stolen goods—and were thinking what to do if it was all of them “Trubel?”

They got to the kitchen and all had to pause. Trouble was there, pulling lo mein out of a carton with her hands, eating it ravenously. She froze, licking her lips, but didn’t blush. “…I washed my hands.”

Nick sighed, exasperated but relieved. Sloane just had to smile a little.

“Well,” Juliette said, a little less on guard. “Why don’t we put some silverware down and eat at the table?”

Trubel set the box down, looking a bit unsure. “It’s been a while since I ate with other people…”

“You get used to it,” Sloane said, giving her a napkin. “I mean you’ll have to, we do it kind of regularly.”

\------------------

Trubel ate like a starving dog. The food disappeared rapidly, as if she were scared someone would take it or she didn’t know when she’d eat again. She was nearly done when the others were half-done. “Would you like seconds?” Juliette asked slowly. Trubel grabbed the glass of water and down it to drown the food before nodding emphatically. Juliette took her dish and glass, opting to get it for her.

“So are all of the Grimms so normal?” she asked once she swallowed.

Nick and Sloane glanced at one another, smiling wryly.

“You should meet my mother,” Nick said. “She's been called a lot of things, but normal's not one of 'em.”

“And I was a lot like her before a year ago. Traveling a lot…”

“And also a little asocial,” Hank pointed out.

“Does that mean we're related?” Trubel asked curiously.

“Maybe a few centuries ago,” Nick said. “From what I can tell, it's like a recessive gene.” He looked at Sloane who nodded.

“There’s some debate on our origin still. Some say it may be a common ancestor, some think it was evolution from maybe a type of wesen—not always a popular theory—and some believe in the Original Seven.”

Nick blinked and looked at her. “Original Seven?”

Sloane shrugged, finshing the bite she took. “It’s kind of a myth. It’s similar to the idea of a single ancestor, that one Grimm was born first. But some believe it was actually seven born from seven families. For a long time, hunting parties of seven were popular for that reason, even back to the times of the crusades. And why some of us _really_ think seven is a lucky number.”

“Wow,” Hank said. Nick remembered the seven keys and some of what he’d learned about them, wondering if there was a connection.

“It can’t be proven though. Many try to trace their lineage back to the start to prove it, but it’s been pretty impossible. Some who said they could considered themselves like Grimm nobility, but it’s all BS. Grimm family lines have intermingled several times over the centuries so our family trees can get a little twisty and complicated. But nothing worrying, they do fork and spread, nobody’s their own grandpa, and there’s no banjo playing.”

Nick, Hank and Juliette all chuckled, but Trubel seemed more curious than anything.

“Must be a relief to know you're not the only one at least,” Juliette said, coming back over with another helping.

Trubel nodded a little but looked at Juliette now. “So you see these wesen things too?”

“ Oh, no, I'm not a Grimm,” she said, shaking her head.

She frowned. “So how do you deal with this?”

“Deal with what?” she asked, glancing at Nick and the others.

“You know, being married to someone who can see what we do?”

She blushed, glancing awkwardly at Nick. “Um, we... We're not married.”

Trubel nodded, forking up more noodles. “Smart. You can get out any time.”

Everyone glanced at one another and though it was awkward, Sloane couldn’t deny she’d thought the same thing.

After dinner, Sloane ushered Trubel to her car and back over to her house. She seemed nervous again as they headed inside. New places made her nervous it seemed, and Sloane couldn’t blame her. “My guest room isn't furnished yet, but I have a day bed in my office.” She walked over, opening the door. “I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

“I'm fine with what I have,” Trubel said, setting her backpack down.

“Alright…let me know if you change your mind. My doors at the end of the hall if you need anything.

“I won’t…” she said, firm. But she hesitated and looked at her. “Thank you though…for, um…”

“It’s fine. I understand,” Sloane said. She walked over and locked the closet where her weapons and books were. “I’ll show you what’s in there later, but there’s some dangerous things so I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Trubel looked at the door with an obvious burning curiosity but nodded. “Okay…”

“Don’t pick the lock, it’s also booby trapped,” Sloane said. Trubel looked at her in surprise and she smiled. “It’s a precaution I always take leaving the house. Good night,” Sloane said, heading out. She sighed as she sat on the couch and rubbed over her face.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into…”

\------------------------

Sloane had feeling Trubel would try to bolt and sure enough, around 3 in the morning, she heard thrashing from the room. _Nightmares… _She heard the door open a few minutes later. Trubel was moving towards the front door as quietly as she could but she froze at the click of the lamp.

“Trouble sleeping?” she asked knowingly. Trubel didn’t answer and Sloane sighed and stood up. “Trubel…I get what you’re going through—”

“Stop saying that!” she snapped. “You do not!”

Sloane narrowed her eyes. She knew what Dierdre would do in this situation, felt her hand tighten into a fist. But she just took a breath and willed her hand to relax. “Nightmares about blood and teeth and claws. Feeling like you need to look over your shoulder everywhere or risk being killed. Like you have no one to depend on but yourself because anyone offering help either wants you to drop your guard or give them something. Am I about right?”

Trubel eased up a tiny bit. “…Were you in the system too?”

Sloane shook her head. “No. I had a mentor—an older Grimm who taught me the ropes. But we moved around a lot, fought a lot of wesen…etc. No place to call home. Well, till…” she gestured to her house.

“…Why’d you stay?”

She sighed again. “It’s…complicated. At first it was to train Nick because he inherited—that is, got his Grimm abilities—just a couple of years ago. His mother is a friend of mine and I was convinced his way of doing things was going to get him killed…and instead, he…well, he became my friend. And then so did some of the wesen he was friends with.”

“You’re really friends with them?” Trubel said, looking alarmed.

“I was skeptical at first too about it,” she said, holding up her hands. “But there are good wesen in the world. They help us get the bad ones.” She didn’t look convinced and Sloane folded her arms. “We can’t protect you completely, Trubel. If you go out there, you might end up dead or you might end up in jail or in an institution. This is the chance we’re offering.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Trubel said.

“My friend Rosalee—a wesen—once said “If we don’t look out for each other, who will.” I’m offering to teach you about being a Grimm. What to look out for, what to be aware of. You can fight pretty darn well but I can teach you more there too, and Nick. Whether you want to stay in Portland after that or not is up to you, but at least here you know there are people like you and people that can help with that. But if you go out there and more people end up dead—self-defense or not—we can’t go somewhere else and defend you as a Grimm because this is meant to be a secret.”

Trubel hesitated still but finally sighed and headed back for the room. Sloane sighed as well and went to rest on the couch to be safe.

\----------------------

The next morning, Nick called her. Trubel was still sleeping (she’d checked and decided to let her) and she was making eggs and toast for breakfast. Turning the heat down, she grabbed the phone. “Nick?”

“Hey. Um…How’re things?”

“I’m still alive and so is Trubel,” Sloane said, easing the spatula around the eggs. “Little close call last night when she tried to leave, but I managed to talk her into staying and giving us a chance I think.”

“That’s good,” Nick sighed, relieved. “Um…so I had an idea…”

“Okay…and what is this idea?” she asked slowly, flipping the last egg onto a plate and turning off the heat completely.

“I thought we should more properly introduce Trubel to some wesen. Monroe and Rosalee, specifically.”

Sloane frowned. “You sure?”

“She needs to learn there are good wesen in the world. And they are the best we know. And…they already agreed.”

Sloane sighed. “I’d appreciate a better heads up in the future…”

“I know, but I wanted to make sure they were okay with it first. They said yes, just so long as she’s unarmed. Her machete was mentioned specifically as being not invited. And this morning is free.”

“Okay…I’m finishing up making breakfast so meet you there in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” he agreed. “See you then.”

“See you.” She ended the call and without missing a bit, “Breakfast will be on the table in five minutes. And that was Nick on the phone, I’ll explain it while we eat.”

Trubel, who had been trying to listen in, flushed a bit and opened the door wider. “How did you…?”

“It comes with training,” she said, smiling. “Wash up and come eat.”

\----------------------------

“So, repeat that back to me,” Sloane said, pulling up to Monroe and Rosalee’s house. Trubel was in her passenger seat, holding her backpack protectively. She’d insisted on bringing it, but Sloane had insisted on going through and putting all weapons aside. This included the hidden pocket knife Trubel thought she wouldn’t find, but did, sewn into the strap.

Trubel sighed. “Rosalee is a fuchsbau—a fox wesen. And Monroe is a blutbad, a wolf. They’re going to woge, and I can’t attack them.”

“Shouldn’t, and can’t,” Sloane reminded her, parking.

“Yeah yeah…”

“I’m serious,” Sloane said, looking at her. “Rosalee is my best friend and Monroe is Nick’s. We want to help you and I’m not trying to threaten you. But if you attack them, we will defend them. And they are not going to attack you unprovoked like some wesen. I promise, I wouldn’t be bringing you here if I didn’t trust them.”

“…Its me you don’t trust,” Trubel said.

“Of course,” Sloane said, not even trying to sugar-coat it. “We’re still learning about each other. I know you killed those other wesen in self-defense, but I didn’t always have that excuse so I don’t know if you do.” Sloane opened the door and stepped out before Trubel could ask further. Nick and Hank had arrived as well and were waiting for them on the porch in front of Monroe’s stained glass door.

Knocking, Rosalee answered “Hi, Nick, Hank, Sloane,” she said with a smile. Monroe was standing in the living room just beyond.

“Rosalee, Monroe,” Nick greeted. He gestured behind him where Trubel was standing, looking sullen and unsure. “This is... Trubel.”

Rosalee smiled but it was hard to miss the hint of nervousness around her. “Come on in,” she stood aside so they could all file in. She went to stand with Monroe. “Well, I'm Rosalee.”

“Fuchsbau,” Trubel said. Sloane closed her eyes, praying for patience.

Rosalee nodded, caught off guard a little but not losing her smile. “Right. And I hear you met Monroe yesterday.” She gestured at Monroe who smiled and waved anxiously.

“Yeah…I never really had a chance to properly introduce...” He started, putting his hand out to shake hers.

“Blutbad.” She said it very matter-of-factly. But it did still bring back the memory of when he met Sloane—the way she said the same word with anger and vehemence before she tried to kill him.

“Yeah…” he said, taking his hand back since she didn’t seem intent to shake it.

There was a moment of silence and Trubel looked around at the many, _many_ clocks around the room. They were all part of his collection. “You, uh, really got a thing for clocks,” she said.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, grateful for a non-violent conversation topic. “Big fan of time in general. “I mean, you think about it... history, music, love. A long life, right?” He laughed nervously, realizing he was rambling nervously. “None of it would work without...Timing.”

It was quiet again before Nick gently intervened. “And speaking of, we might want to get these other introductions out of the way.”

Monroe and Rosalee looked nervous but nodded. “So why don't we just start with explaining what a woge is?” Rosalee said.

“I know what it is,” she said defensively.

“I explained that’s what we call it, but there’s more than that,” Sloane said. Her tone clearly said _Be Nice._

“Right. There are um, stages and other terms you should know,” Monroe went on. “So there's Kehrseiten. And they are non-wesen, non-Grimm types.”

“That would be me,” Hank said, holding up his hand from a spot near the fireplace.

“And they can only see us when we want them to,” Monroe nodded.

“And Grimss, like you, on the other hand, also can see us when we don't wanna be seen,” Rosalee said. Trubel eased up a bit, apparently inclined to learn.

“You ready?” Monroe asked. She nodded slightly.

“Here goes.” The took a deep breath, and then woged into their respective forms. Sloane was watching Trubel and felt relief that, after an initial slight tensing, she stood still to take them in.

“See?” Rosalee smiled. “No big deal.”

“Everything's fine,” Monroe said, his voice a little deeper with his transformation and talking around fangs. They both changed back, breathing out.

Trubel looked them over again. “…How do you know I'm a Grimm?”

They glanced at one another, not expecting the question. “Um...It's your eyes,” Monroe finally said.

“They get really dark when we woge,” Rosalee nodded. “It's kind of scary.”

“Really?” She was surprised and confused, glancing at Sloane. Sloane nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, we're not talking kiddy pool dark,” Monroe went on. “We're talking, like, all the way down to your soul, deep-type dark.”

Trubel nodded slightly. “…Cool.”

Sloane tried not to smile a little. She was 21 but she still seemed like a kid at heart it seemed.

Nick’s phone rang and he pulled it out with an annoyed grunt. Seeing the tag, he nodded to them and walked to the side to talk.

“So that went well, right?” Monroe said. “Still friends?”

“…This is so weird,” Trubel said. “You know, everybody telling me what I saw wasn't real, I made it up.”

“Well, honey, you didn't,” Rosalee said, stepping forward a bit. “Look, this is new for... for all of us. Nick is the first Grimm who didn't try to kill us. Sloane…”

“I tried,” she said, looking down a bit. “But then I was reasoned with and realized that wasn’t how to handle things every time.”

Rosalee smiled and nodded, turning her attention back to Trubel. “So this is as important for Monroe and me as it is for you. It’s another new step. But not all wesen are like us.” She reached out and gently set a hand on Trubel’s shoulder. Trubel was tense and glanced at the hand, unsure. “So you need to be careful.”

“…Okay,” she said, though she was still very guarded.

Nick came over then, looking resigned. “We gotta go. There's a body in forest park.”

“What about Trubel?” Hank asked, pointing out their current charge.

“Um...” He looked at Monroe and Rosalee, but Monroe not so nonchalantly looked away, rubbing over his neck. Nick sighed and shrugged. “We can take her with us,” he said.

Sloane arched her brow. “And say what exactly? I don’t think they’re going to believe she’s a detective at her age.”

Nick bit his lip as he thought before seeming to hit a eureka moment. “Ride along. Yeah, we can say she's a, uh...” Well, half a Eureka moment. They all looked at one another, trying to figure out what someone might believe when it came to a leather jacket wearing, barely 21 girl with a chip on her shoulder.

Trubel could feel them floundering but seemed more uncomfortable with all their attention on her. “What?”

“…Criminology student?” Hank finally proposed.

Everyone felt relief. “Oh, perfect.”

“Great idea.”

“That's the best.”

Trubel rolled her eyes but didn’t fuss with the idea luckily enough.

\--------------------

They drove to the edge of the park so they could walk down to where they found the body. As they exited, Trubel got out to walk with them. “Hey. Where do you think you're going?” Nick asked, pausing and putting a hand up to stop her.

“With you... isn't that what I'm supposed to be doing?” she asked, looking a little excited though trying to keep it cool.

“No, this is a crime scene. This might not have anything to do with wesen.”

Hank snorted. “Don't I wish.”

“Yeah, I mean, maybe a third of our causes don’t have wesen immediately involved, and that’s being generous…” Sloane said. “But that’s mainly because our captain points us to them, it’s not to do with wesen I’ve learned,” Sloane said. “Serial killer I had to deal with a couple weeks in? Human.”

“Really?” Trubel asked.

“Yeah. And he was _nuts._ Like, art and glass birds and feather dresses kinda nuts. On his victims, he didn’t wear the feather dress. Oh God I’m starting to sound like Monroe,” Sloane breathed. Nick tried not to smile and patted her back in mock consolation.

“Well, I mean…it's not like it's the first dead body I've ever had to deal with,” Trubel pointed out.

“Just keep your voice down,” Nick said, seeing Wu walking up to them. “The fewer questions people ask about you, the better.”

“She’s not the milkman’s daughter, chill,” Sloane whispered back.

“What do we got?” Hank asked Wu.

“Uh, another weird one,” Wu said. “Looks like the vic was exsanguinated.”

“What's that?” Trubel asked. Nick looked heavenward but sighed and resigned himself.

Wu looked at her, then looked at them in confusion. Hank took the reigns. “This is Theresa. Criminology student. She's here for a ride along.”

Wu smiled approvingly. “Oh, thinking of becoming a cop?”

Trubel scoffed and Sloane gently elbowed her, shaking her head. “…Forensics, maybe…”

Wu took it in stride. “Right. Well, it means that the victim has lost all of her blood. Crime scene's this way.”

“Try to just watch and listen,” Nick sighed at Trubel.

“That's what I'm doing,” she argued, following them down the tree-lined hill. There were still many dead leaves left from the recent winter, and buried among them and a bit of dirt was the body of a woman wrapped in clear plastic, only a bit of her face visible.

“Body's wrapped in plastic. Fully clothed, buried about 6 inches under,” Wu said.

“Who found it?” Hank asked, going over to kneel by her.

Wu nodded to a young couple and a golden retriever further up the trail. “Dog named Delta and his two owners. Out for a run.”

“Looks like some high-end clothes,” Hank said, moving the plastic just slightly to get a better look with his gloved hand.

“Cuts don't look like they were made by a blade,” Nick added. “Looks like puncture wounds.”

“Doesn't look like she's got a drop of blood left,” Hank sighed, noting the palor of her skin and the lack of bruising around the wounds.

“Gotta be wesen,” Trubel piped up.

Wu froze and swallowed. “S-sorry…what? I mean, you said…” He looked at her again and frowned more. “You…look familiar too…”

Nick closed his eyes and breathed but Sloane patted him on the shoulder and whispered. “I got this.” Standing, she looked at Wu. “Do you want to go through the door or to stay out?”

“…Out,” he said quietly.

“Then just know she’s one of us, we’ve worked things out, and ignore the rest. Let’s get prints now.”

“Right. Yes. Scanner's in the car. I'll be right back.” He turned and quickly marched back up.

Trubel watched him and then looked back. “…I messed up?” she asked.

“A little,” Sloane nodded.

“You've got to understand, these are cops but to the best of our knowledge, most don’t know anything about this,” Hank said firmly. “You can't go talking about that stuff to just anybody.”

“Sorry…” she said, sounding honest yet defensive. “But…he…”

“He knows,” Sloane said with a sigh. “But he doesn’t want to. Wu had a _bad_ first introduction to wesen. I tried to explain things, similar to how we did with you, but he wants to just forget and that wesen exist. I don’t think that’s going to happen but he has to work through that himself now.”

“…I can get that…” she nodded.

“Still, it’s better to keep any wesen stuff to ourselves in general,” Nick said. “You’re new to really knowing about it I know, but for right now I’d recommend mentioning it just around us or anyone we okay to be safe. And I think you’re right about this,” he looked back down at the girl.

“Oh, she is definitely right,” Sloane sighed.

Trubel looked down at the victim again and her brow pinched in an expression that was a mix of indignity and a bit of sadness. “You okay?” Nick asked.

“She's young…What the hell kind of wesen makes marks like that?”

“Lebensauger,” Sloane said.

“Lemon sour?” she asked, confused.

Sloane tried not smile. “No, Lebensauger. ‘Life Sucker’. Think a giant leech or lamprey…”

“Oh God…” Hank muttered, shuddering.

“I’d recommend we do some extra research.”

“Trailer?” Nick asked. They nodded, turning to head back up the hill.

\----------------

“You know, I think it may be time to move the trailer,” Nick said, looking through one of the books.

“That's not a bad idea,” Hank said. He was looking over the shelf. Sloane was also looking through them—she hadn’t had time to continue cataloging Nick’s collection in the last few months and wesen she was looking for wasn’t in what she already did. She sat on the daybed as she worked, but Trubel was looking at what Nick was going over at the moment from his side.

“I've seen one of those,” she said, pointing at a page with depictions of Native American wesen with long teeth and ears.

“Wendigo,” Nick nodded. “Where did you see it?”

“Chicago. Dude picked me up, offered me dinner. Then I found out I was supposed to be the main dish.”

“They do that,” Sloane agreed.

“Yeah, we ran across one of those,” Hank nodded, looking at the picture.

“You cut off its head?” she asked, noting the pictures.

“No, we shot him,” Nick said.

“Oh…I guess that works.”

“It works on a fair number of wesen and people,” Sloane said. Nick glanced at her, knowing her history with guns, but didn’t say anything.

“You wouldn't happen to have an extra gun, would you?” Trubel asked.

“You can use mine-”

“No she cannot,” Nick said firmly. Sloane frowned at him. “I know you don’t like guns that much, but yours is police issue and no one else is using it.”

“Fine…” she sighed.

“Hey, I think I found it,” Hank said, putting it down on the desk. Sloane stood and walked over. “Same markings as on our vic. You recognize it?”

Sloane nodded, looking over the picture of a gooey wesen with a mouth like a perfect circle with several rows of sharp, needle-like teeth. “That’s the one.

“…Hank, you remember Ryan?” Nick asked suddenly.

“The intern? How could I forget? Oh, you mean,” he pointed and Nick nodded.

“This is the crazy one that was a wesen trying to be a Grimm and killed a bunch of people?” Sloane clarified.

“Yeah. He was one of these…”

“Yeesh…”

“"La-ban…um…” Trubel started.

“Le-ben. Le-ben Sa-au-ger.”

“Lebensauger,” she tried again. “That's German, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick nodded. “Sloane knows more than I do.”

“Keep going,” Sloane said, nodding to Trubel.

Trubel smiled a little and looked back at the passage. “"Lebensaugers are known for coercing their victims through fear-””

A phone ringing interrupted her and Nick pulled his phone from the stacks. “Hold on…it’s the station.” He clicked the speaker button. “Wu, you're on speaker.”

“Ah, actually, its Franco,” the voice said.

“Oh…um…sorry, it’s just usually Wu that updates us.”

“Yeah, he asked if I could, said he had to take care of something else.”

They glanced at each other, all figuring the “wesen” had spooked him off. “…Well, what do you have for us then Franco?”

“Got a juvenile record on your victim. Took a little while to clear it. Camila Reynolds, age 18. Arrested three times, the latest for shoplifting six months ago. Last known address, the New Beginnings halfway house downtown.”

“Thank you,” Nick said. Trubel meanwhile gravitated to another open book, picking it up and staring with a haunted look.

“Hey, Franco!” Hank said quickly. “Can you check with robbery? See if any high-end stores have been hit recently. Anything with young girls as the perps.”

“Yeah, you got it.”

“Thanks. Over and out.”

Nick hanged up and nodded to the others. “Let's hit that halfway house.” He looked at Trubel. “You think you can...What is it?”

She looked up, still looking a little anxious, before setting the book down and pointing to the passage.

“Siegbarste,” Sloane read. “You’ve seen one of those?”

“That's what killed my foster parents,” she said quietly. They all sat up straighter in surprise.

“That's why you ran away?” Hank asked quietly.

“Yeah…it would've killed me too if I hadn't,” she said.

“Did you see who it was?” Nick asked.

Trubel shook her head, swallowing as memories filled her. “No, only that...That it was a monster. That's... that's why I ran.”

Sloane frowned and reached to gently pat her shoulder. She looked at her but then looked down again.

“Well, I think you've had enough for one day,” Nick said. “I can take you to Sloane’s, drop you off—”

“No,” she said firmly. They were surprised. “No, I'm done running.”

Sloane looked at Nick and Hank, then back at her. “…Okay. But if we’re going to keep this up, you need to remember: We’re your mentors here. You have to follow our lead on this and listen to us or it could get bad for everyone.”

She nodded. “Right…”

\-------------------

They didn’t find out much initially from the halfway house. Trubel was ordered to stay in the car and she was okay with it this time, having been to places like this before. The woman in charge seemed to want to help the girls in her care, though space and time was limited. She had a file on Camilla that showed she went to job interviews to try and have something lined up when she turned 18 and couldn’t stay any longer, but nothing to say if she got one. Her roommate Meghan was concerned it seemed, but said that no one really confides in each other because “your problems are just that, yours.”

When they got back to the car though, Trubel was antsy. She’d seen Meghan woge when her friend from the halfway house warned her cops wanted to talk to her. But they couldn’t bring her in on that. Then Trubel ran from the car as they were pulling out before Sloane could stop her and they had to rush around back. Trubel had the girl—an maushertz of all things!—pinned against a shed and was in her face.

“Hey!” Nick yelled, grabbing her off the other girl. Sloane led the girl away and pushed her back towards the house. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Trubel stared up at him, defiant. “O'Bryant Square... It's where Cammy met someone named Donna. That's who gave her the job. Promised her good clothes and a place to crash. And I probably would have found out more if you guys hadn't butted in.”

“Butted in?” Sloane asked. “Butted in!?” She stormed over and Trubel’s eyes widened. “I told you very clearly that you have to _listen to us._ There is a time and place to do things like that and while we are on the clock as police officers in broad daylight is not one of them!”

“But…there’s three of us and Hank—”

“No, there’s a professional detective, two Grimms, and a trainee. That’s you. You heard us earlier, that we keep this a _secret._ Why? So we don’t end up with targets on our backs. It happens anyway—Nick, Hank, Juliette, Monroe and more have all been pawns at one time or another. This is dangerous work for us and our loved ones without sending up a flare saying “This is the Grimm”! Further, given this is our day job and you are our ride along, we are responsible for you! If someone from that house saw that and pressed charges? Dragged us through the mud and out into the open? When we could’ve come back and talked to her in private after the workday with fewer possible witnesses?”

“I…didn’t think—” she started, hunkering down.

“No, you didn’t. And I am out of patience today, so get to the car. NOW.” She didn’t yell, but her voice spoke of very bad things if she didn’t do as she was told.

Trubel quickly ducked her head and headed back to the car, followed by a surprised Hank and Nick.

“Wow…that was very…”

“Like a strict school teacher?” Sloane guessed with a sigh.

“Yeah. I mean, I agree she crossed that line but I figured you might defend her there…”

“No. That was a mistake on a lot of levels. Even when I do that kind of thing, I do it somewhere there’s not going to be a crap ton of people milling about. I learned that lesson early on.”

“Your mentor give you a lecture like that?”

“Ha, no…If I did that, she’d beat me black and blue,” Sloane said. Nick paused. She was serious. He knew she was. She paused and looked at him and then sighed again. “Nick, don’t—”

“Sloane…when you talk about her, your mentor…” he said slowly. “You talk about her and she’s done some…bad things to you, I mean…”

“It was necessary. I needed to learn to take the pain and become disciplined,” Sloane said quietly.

“…Are you going to hit Trubel?” he asked seriously.

Sloane’s eyes widened. “What? I—”

“And I don’t mean sparring,” he clarified. “I mean would you have hit her for this?”

“…No. I knew what Dierdre would but…Trubel has been through enough without even knowing why. She knows that this is going to be a violent life in a lot of ways. She’s got skill, she just needs focus and learning and…”

“And?”

“…I don’t want to hurt her…” She rubbed over her arm a bit. “…I’m not stupid…” The three words said a lot. She knew, at the heart of it all, her child hood was _bad_ after her grandmother died. Dangerous, painful, lonely. Sometimes the danger wasn’t just wesen. “But Dierdre’s training…it’s what I needed to prepare me for now. I’d never been hit other than schoolyard pushes before then. Trubel…she already knows what to expect. I’m not going to add to that, I just want to prepare her to do more.”

“…Good. But then, I don’t think you deserved it either. That’s not how you train someone.”

She didn’t say anything, just continued to the car. Nick sighed a bit and followed.

\----------------

Franco called as they headed back to the station. They had a hit for a robbery of a high-end store yesterday with about 17K worth of merchandise lifted. The CCTV caught Camilla Reynolds as one of those stealing from the store, but the security guard had nearly caught her before she ran. Discussing it with Renard, they theorized she was seen as a liability and discharged permanently. They did also bring up the information Trubel found, though didn’t say how they got it. Their plan was to stake out O’Brian square that night to try and find “Donna”. She was recruiting girls, dressing them up in expensive clothes so they fit in, and then mobbing the stores was their theory.

Coming out, Sloane grabbed some bottled waters and walked back over to the desk were Trubel was sitting. She looked up when Sloane came over, looking defiant but there was a bit of worry in there too. “Walk with me,” Sloane said, gesturing for her to get up. Trubel hesitated but stood and followed her outside. She handed her a bottle. “…I maintain what I said, but I’m…sorry I yelled,” Sloane said.

Trubel looked surprised and confused but took the water. She rolled it in her hands a little. “…I want to help…” she said quietly.

Sloane smiled. “And we want you to help. But—and trust me, this is rich coming from me—not everything is a fight in this. I was planning to go back to Meghan and get her alone to talk. Less physical, more intimidation and rationalizing. A maushertz like her isn’t much of a threat and you can lean on them without touching them. And I was going to bring you with me to show you.”

“…What about Nick?”

“I was going to run it by him. He’s more straight-laced than me but knows sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do. I used to joke he was a boy scout, but he’s not as much of a bleeding heart as a I thought. But threatening in broad daylight, still a bad thing regardless. It pulls too much attention to us and also doesn’t make us look very sane or capable. There are plenty of meathead Grimms who rush in and start hacking away and they usually end up dead or getting their friends and innocent people killed. Even before I started living here and I was killing wesen a lot more, I knew use misdirection and get my targets alone and secluded to be safe. I want to fight smarter, not harder, and I’d like to teach you that as well. I think it will keep you alive in the long run.”

Trubel nodded slowly. “…Okay. That makes sense. I just…”

“You want to get in there and prove you’re capable,” Sloane said. She smiled at her surprised blush. “I was the same way when I was younger than you. My mentor…did not take it well.”

“They yell at you too?”

“Uh…She talked a lot more with her hands. And I don’t mean sign language.”

Trubel stood up straighter. “Oh…”

“Yeah…I don’t want to teach you that way though.”

“…Good. Cause I’d fight back.”

“Good,” Sloane said, nodding in approval. “You wanna do something like that again, at least run it by one of us just so we can also be there to back you up too. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

Trubel nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.

\--------------

“I never knew being a cop was so boring,” Trubel sighed, munching on some pretzels Nick had gotten for a snack. They were staking out O’Brian Square in their car, Trubel and Sloane in the back, Nick and Hank up front. There were a lot of people milling about—food carts, street musicians, couples, friends, teenagers—like a herd of animals around a watering hole.

The detectives just hummed to Trubel’s complaint, munching on their snack.

“Oh, you're not bored?” she asked, looking at them dubiously.

“Part of the job.” Nick said.

“It’s 20% driving, 20% talking to people, 20% searching through databases, 30 % paperwork, and 10% catching the badguy I’m pretty sure,” Sloane said. Nick chuckled but nodded.

“Sounds about right,” Hank agreed with a smile.

Trubel rolled her eyes but then leaned forward a bit more. “Hey, what about her?” she said, pointing towards a well dressed woman. She was blonde, wearing a silver jacket and floral shirt with black skinny jeans and heels. “Clothes aren't cheap, and she looks like she's looking for somebody.”

“Probably having an affair,” Hank said. When a man came down and they greeted each other with a kiss he gestured at that to show he was right.

“Maybe they're in love,” Nick said, smiling.

“Maybe.”

Trubel huffed, sipping her half-melted soda she got from the restaurant in a to go cup as she scanned the crowd again. A few moments later another woman came down the steps from the park paths beyond. She was even more well dressed than the other in a camel colored leather jacket, white blouse and high-end blue-black jeans and designer shoes. She pointed to her. “What do you think?”

“She's probably having an affair too,” Nick joked.

But Sloane watched her with Trubel and she was more interested in a group of young girls chatting near the stares. It looked like she was sizing them up.

“No, that's gotta be her,” Trubel said.

“Well, even if it is, we have to wait for her to make a move,” Hank said.

“What if she doesn't?”

“Then maybe it's not her,” Nick sighed.

Trubel frowned and looked at Sloane. She watched the woman a moment before nodding slightly. “I think she may be right.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Experience,” Sloane said.

“I think I can get her attention,” Trubel said quickly.

“Trubel,” Nick started.

“No, really! No physical stuff, but I might be able to get her to show me where they live if they’re looking for a new girl.”

“You…want to use yourself as bait?” Nick asked incredulously.

“You got a better idea?” she shot back. “I just need some change.”

“Change?” Hank asked.

“Yeah. Nickels, quarters, dimes, you know.” The men looked at one another in concern and hesitation. Trubel looked to Sloane though. “I can _do_ this. I’ve done similar stuff before to get people to trust me if I needed a ride or something…”

Sloane arched her eyebrow, considering the options before them. Trubel wasn’t a child, and she had some experience defending herself. She was around the right age and look they might be searching for to replace the victim. It made sense. She sighed finally and dug out some change from her pocket. “We’ll be tailing you and if you feel it’s too much, you cut and run.”

“I need something to cut with,” she pointed out.

“Sloane, hold on, are you sure?” Nick asked.

“I think I know what she’s thinking and it’s a sound plan.” She leaned down, pulling up her jean leg to reveal a small switch blade at her ankle in her boot. “This is going to be the easiest to conceal, they might get spooked if you have anything bigger.”

“Sloane—”

“Nick, I trust her,” Sloane said, handing the blade to Trubel. “And by that, I trust you not to hurt anyone till you need to and not to get yourself killed.”

She smiled and put the switch blade in her own boot. “Got it!” she grabbed the chang and jumped out the of the car.

“You sure about this?” Hank asked, watching her. She dumped out the soda, wiped the cup down with her shirt, then threw the change inside and mussed her hair to look a bit more like she’d been sleeping rough. She started asking people if they had any change.

“Yeah,” Sloane nodded, watching her. “I mean, she’s obviously been a hustler herself, so she knows how to play people.”

“What do you mean obviously a hustler?” Nick asked.

“I found a few clothes with electric tags on them, she hadn’t removed them yet.”

“What?!”

“Oh calm down, what’s done is done. I did similar things before I could afford to at least thrift shop,” she said. “Plus, she’s already got blondie’s attention.” They looked back to see her approach the woman in question.

Nick moved as if to get out of the car but Hank actually put a hand on his chest. “Whoa, hold it. If it is her, you might scare her off. Let’s…see where this goes.”

Sloane smiled and settled back. She couldn’t hear them—her hearing wasn’t _that_ amazing even when she tried—but she could tell from the body language a bit of what was happening. Trubel was trying to look a little pathetic, a little helpless but approachable. The woman was giving her undivided attention and they were chatting unlike when she approached others for change. Then she motioned for Trubel to follow. She glanced back their way, nodding just slightly that could almost look like a nervous movement, before following her.

“She’s got her!” Hank said with a grin.

“We gotta stop this,” Nick said quicker, moving to get out quickly. Sloane followed and they jogged as quickly as they could without being too obvious. But Trubel and the woman were already up the steps and heading to the streets on the other side. She glanced back at them and they tried to get around the crowds as fast as possible in a couple directions. But in the brief moment they lost sight, they only caught them again as they were getting into a car and driving away.

“Get the plates!” Nick said loudly, grabbing his phone and dialing dispatch.

“55 Romeo Sierra... Damn! That's all I could get,” Hank said.

“I need a BOLO on a gray BMW x6. Partial plate 5 5 Romeo Sierra.” He nodded and put the phone down when they acknowledged, looking the direction it went in frustration and anger, like watching someone steal from you and get away.

“She's a smart girl,” Hank said, putting a hand on his shoulder and getting him to go towards their car. “She survived on her own for a long time before now.”

“I was supposed to protect her,” he said. “I brought her into this.”

“_We _brought her into this, and _I _okayed her to do this part,” Sloane said.

“Oh, I realize that,” Nick snapped, getting into the car.

“You can be upset, but she’s not dead. They don’t want to just kill her outright. Hank’s right, she’s lived this long, she’s not going to die easily. She’s a Grimm,” Sloane growled back.

“And we’ll get her out. We just have to stay focused,” Hank added. “BOLO will come up with something.”

\---------------------

Franco found a match to the BMW registered to a Donna O’Hara and got them an address. When they got there and pounded on the door, stating they were the police, no one answered.

“There's no one home,” Hank sighed.

“Yeah, well, we're going in,” Nick said. Sloane arched her eyebrows at the commanding tone.

“Nick, we need a reason,” Hank pointed out.

Nick frowned, looking annoyed with himself before drawing his gun. “Somebody's yelling "help."” He said, about to smash the door in.

“Whoa, hold it!” Sloane said quickly. “I like the attitude, but I could just…pick the lock?” she said, gesturing at it. “In, out, less awkward than claiming we heard voices?”

Nick paused. “You can pick locks? What am I saying, of course you can,” he said, a little exasperated.

“Don’t sound so happy,” she said snidely. She pulled her blazer off and handed it to him, then took her holster harness off. From one side of the harness she pulled a small bundle hidden in a secret pocket and opened it up to show a few basic lockpicking tools. “Give me two minutes.”

“You got one,” Nick said.

“The second minute will be spent punching you in the knees if you keep talking to me like that, Burkhardt,” she growled.

“Well this is your fault! How could you just okay her to go do that?” he whispered, keeping look out with Hank as she worked the bits of metal in.

“She’s 21, not a baby,” Sloane said. “And she’s probably been through more than you have.”

“That’s what worries me! She shouldn’t have to keep going through this sort of thing. We should be watching out for her.”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “We are, even if we did this a little badly. But she wanted to help and keeping her on the side lines was probably just going to make her do something stupid.”

“Stupider than going with a murder suspect alone?”

“Yeah, like doing that and _not telling us._ Did that once, did not end well. And Dierdre used me as bait plenty of times.”

Nick looked towards heaven as if wishing God would have mercy. “Sloane, I swear, the more I hear about Dierdre the more I’m going to fight her if we ever meet.”

Sloane paused. “…Please don’t. I know it sounds bad, but honestly, how else was I going to be ready for this kind of life? She’s harsh but she did what she thought was best.”

Nick frowned but just sighed. There was a click as the door was opened and she gently pushed it. They got in and Sloane put her tools away as they looked around. It was dark but well kept, with a lot of nice finishes. A couple glasses of wine were set out and not cleaned next to a bottle on the coffee table. Clothes were strewn about in various places and Hank looked at a jacket very similar to the one the woman they were sure was Donna was wearing. “Still have the tags on 'em. She's not here though…What are we looking for?”

“I don't know, but we gotta find something,” Nick said. He started looking through some photos and notes he found on a desk. Sloane paused and held up a plastic bag almost the size of a person. “This is the same garment bag our vic was in I’m pretty sure…”

“Looks like they've been casing stores from here to Seattle,” Sloane said, holding up a notepad.

“She was paying bills,” Hank offered, holding up envelopes. Nick came marching over, looking as well. “Electricity, gas, cable.”

“She's got a bank account,” Nick said. “Maybe we can get access.”

“Hold on,” Hank said, frowning as he scanned the table again. Sloane knew that tone and walked over as well. “There's two gas bills. One's for this address, one's for another.”

Nick grabbed the other, reading the address quickly. “Northwest industrial. Worth a look!” He turned, and they followed quickly, Sloane pulling the door shut behind them.

They drove as fast as they could, cutting the sirens before they got too close just to be sure they didn’t alert them and make them try to get rid of any evidence or any more girls. They saw the silver BMW as they pulled up to the building they were searching for among the other.

“That's the car we're looking for,” Hank said as they got out of their own car. “This is it.”

“There's a light on upstairs,” Nick said, pulling his gun.

Sloane moved quickly, but cursed when she got the door. “Combination lock! I can’t pick this one and they take a while to crack!” She leaned in and pressed her ear to the door. “I’m hearing what sounds like fighting too!”

A sound like glass shattering was loud enough for all to hear and Hank frowned. “I'm getting the car.”

Sloane was confused, looking back as Hank went to their blue sedan and climbed back in the driver’s seat. Nick was watching him too as he backed up and lined himself up with the doors before quickly grabbing Sloane. “You better move,” he said, realizing what he was going to do.

Sloane’s eyes widened as Hank gunned the car, tires squealing and smoking, before launching at the door. It gave it like it was held by a thin string and he braked hard once inside. Sloane and Nick followed, Sloane looking at Hank with admiration. “That was awesome.”

He smiled a bit. “Yeah, it was wasn’t it?”

They jumped when they heard another crash from upstairs and rushed up. There was a lot to take in—beds, tables, a small kitchen like a bare bones apartment where they must keep the girls. Two girls were screaming and sobbing at the fight taking place, Trubel managing to hold her own and get plenty of blows in. Just as the opened the door she saw Trubel pull the switchblade from her boot and plunge it into the neck of a Lebensauger woman—Donna it seemed. But there was a male as well and he turned and hissed at him through his round mouth of many undulating teeth and suckers. His beady eyes widened and he moved as if to attack Nick and Sloane. Sloane grabbed her knife and threw it in a fluid motion right into his chest at the same time Nick open fired. He was dead before he hit the ground, turning back into a handsome man. She had no doubt he was every bit the monster underneath those good looks though.

Trouble was panting, a few scratches and bruises and one bite wound on her arm oozing softly. But she was more focused on the two other girls huddled between two beds crying, running over to them. “Hey,” she said gently. “It's all right now. It's okay.”

Nick sighed, looking at her. “We gotta get you out of here.”

Trubel looked a little worried, maybe at being chastised again, but Sloane came over after retrieving her knife and cleaning it with a spare bit of cloth from her pocket before sheathing it. She looked her over. “I see the obvious, but are you okay?” She nodded slowly and Sloane breathed out and smiled, extending her hand. “You did good, Trubel.”

She was surprised, taking the hand. “I…did?”

“Took on two on one, came out with one bite wound a few bruises. Not bad.”

“Sloane,” Nick warned.

“It’s true,” she said a bit more defiantly. “But he is right, now’s not the time. Come on, the car’s downstairs. Literally.”

\------------------------------

Nick sighed in frustration once again, setting his gun on his dresser. “She's gonna get herself killed. And I’m scared Sloane is going to help her,” he said to Juliette, wrapping up his telling of that night’s events. They managed to get the other two girls to police custody—they were looking at jail time for theft but possible leniency given they were being used by their perps, Ken and Donna. Sloane had gotten Trubel back to her house to patch her up after Hank got her to the station for her car.

“There's a learning curve to being a Grimm, remember?” Juliette said.

He frowned bitterly, taking off his watch. “Well, most learning curves don't draw blood.”

“Maybe she'll choose a different life.”

He sighed and shook his head, looking reflective. “She'll always see them. There's no running from that. I just…I wish Sloane was so just…ready to train her!”

“…Would you prefer she let her figure it out on her own?” Juliette asked.

“No…but…”

Juliette walked over and set her hands on his arms. “Nick, like you said. She’s always going to see them and she can’t run away. She’s already _had_ to fight and kill them.”

“She doesn’t need to learn that more efficiently,” he pointed out.

“Is that what Sloane’s doing? Is she encouraging her to go out and kill any wesen she finds?”

“…No…” He sighed. “In fact, she said she doesn’t want to train her the way she was trained.”

“Then that’s good!” Juliette said. “Sloane isn’t relapsing into her old ways and is trying to teach Trubel based on what she’s learned here, with us, and in the past. That’s a good thing.”

Nick sighed again. “Yeah…but…”

“But?”

“…The more I learn about Sloane’s past, the more I’m just…angry. Not at her, but at her mentor.”

Juliette nodded slowly. “Yeah…I’ve gotten that feeling too. I mean, being a Grimm can’t be easy but she was just a kid!”

“Makes me realize I was lucky when it came to Marie I guess…I mean, they didn’t know if I would be a Grimm, but they could’ve been training me before I did…They wanted me to have a normal life as long as I could…”

She hugged him. “It’s probably different for everyone. But I think the fact that Sloane has definitely changed means that this is more her nature. Maybe she is a good teacher for Trubel then too, understanding the bad parts about growing up this way.”

Nick nodded again and smiled. “Yeah. You might be right there. I still wanna help though. I mean, it’s a good chance to help another Grimm not just kill any wesen they meet.”

Juliette smiled and kissed him. “And that’s something I love about you for sure. Trying to make the world a better place, one dysfunctional Grimm at a time.”

He chuckled and kissed her again.

\------------------------

Sloane had Trubel take a shower when they got home and wash her bight wound carefully. When she came out, she got some of the salve and treated it. Trubel sat on the daybed in the guest room in a muscle shirt and shorts while she did, a towel still around her neck.

“What is this stuff?” she asked, looking at it with an unsure twist of her nose.

“It’s an old recipe. It’ll help heal this quickly and lessen scarring.”

“For real? Huh…wish I had some before…”

“It can help fade them too. But it’s a little greasy.” She worked to wind the bandages around firmly but not too tight. “I’ll show you how to make it. Rosalee knows too.”

“Thanks…” She glanced at the closet door. “So, um…what’s in there?”

Sloane closed up the jar and put it in the box she had her medical supplies in. “A good chunk of my family collection.”

“Family collection?”

“Yeah. Grimm diaries—notebooks the wesen they’ve met and fought and other useful information—passed down from our ancestors. And weapons, herbs, other things like that they collected.”

“Oh…That’s cool…” she said. But Sloane knew there was a sad look in her eyes that could be described as wistful.

“...I’d prefer you rest tonight but I’ll unlock it tomorrow and you can look through them if you like. pI’d refer you leave the weapons alone unless I’m here just to be safe. Also so the neighbors don’t think I’m weirder than they already do.”

“Okay…Hey, um…thanks by the way.”

“You don’t have to thank me, first aid is pretty simple for this once you get that enzyme those Leben Saugers have that keeps the blood from clotting out of the wound—”

“No, not for this,” she held up her arm, awkward. “I mean…thanks for trusting me. I still screwed up I know but…”

“You didn’t screw up exactly, we just did it to fast. It was a good idea but we should’ve been more ready to follow you and make sure you didn’t end up hurt.”

“It wasn’t that bad…I mean, up until Ken said I had to spend the night with him,” she grimaced. “But the girls seemed nice at first, if super scared. And…”

“You got to dress up,” Sloane pointed out. Trubel blushed and hunkered down more. Sloane sighed and sat. “Look…I only just started getting to do what _I_ have wanted to do, dress how I want to dress, for the first time in ages. Before that I thought I had to be tough and that make-up and dresses and all that were just other weapons to get to who I needed to kill on certain occasions. Otherwise, why bother? But my aunts got me a lot of new clothes for my birthday and…it’s nice having color in my life. I pushed it away for a long time. There’s no shame in liking things like pink and make-up and cute shoes. Just no heels when we’re fighting if you don’t want broken ankles.”

Trubel smiled but shrugged a little too. “I like how I dress normally too though…”

“That’s good,” she nodded. “But I’m just saying, you don’t have to put yourself in a box anymore. You can explore other things, do more than just hunt and fight. That’s how you’re going to figure life out.” She looked over towards her desk, frowning at the scrap book she knew was there of some of her cases. The ones were she didn’t have as much restraint. “I stayed in my box for years…and I missed out on a lot because of it. I never took the offers to branch out until I got here and even if it’s frustrating sometimes, I don’t regret it.”

Trubel nodded slowly. “…I still need to learn things.”

“Oh, you definitely do. But we’ll work on that too. Later. We need to rest.” She stood and Trubel watched her go before pulling a notebook out of her backpack. Thinking over the evening, she started sketching a Lebensauger, with its rings of pointed teeth and melting skin and beady eyes, and making notes on what she knew about it. It wasn’t a fancy leather journal but it was a start.

\-------------------

The next morning, Nick was looking over the paper with his morning coffee. One of the top articles described that a ring of thieves was caught and the two ringleaders killed in an altercation with police. It was technically correct, though Trubel wasn’t technically police. There was a knock on the door and he stood, going over to see who was there rather early. He was surprised to see Trubel herself there, with Sloane standing next to her. Opening the door, he looked between them. “Hey…what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…I asked Sloane to bring me over so I could tell you a little of what I told her last night,” Trubel said, looking a little awkward.

“Okay…?”

She took a deep breath. “I know I messed up last night.”

Nick blinked, a little caught off guard. “Well, you found the girls, so...”

She shook her head. “No, it’s okay. Sloane said she okayed it but I messed up, I know it. I'm just not used to being the hunter. I got carried away, last night and at the half-way house. But it’s like…I need to know more and do as much as I can. Sloane’s going to start teaching me and training me, but I hope you're still willing to help me too.”

Nick looked up at Sloane who smiled. “I wouldn’t mind. It’ll be fun I think. And this way, she’ll get a couple points of view on it.”

He nodded slowly before sighing and smiling. “Well…why don’t we come in and talk it over?”

Trubel glanced at Sloane who nodded and they headed in, Nick had to admit this might be good for them.

**Author's Note:**

> So, not too much of a difference here--but some important stuff to go over and obviously setting up future events new and old! Enjoyed going over some more of Sloane's past, and her thinking on how to handle Trubel, and them getting along together. Sorry not as much Adalind :< I couldn't figure a natural way for them to meet yet, so I have a more fun way to go for it later. After two chapters of rewrites, there'll be an original adventure next time though!


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